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ANASTASIA 




THE RIRRIRR CEDARS OF RUSSIA 

“I exist for those, for whom I exist” 


According to Anastasia, special combinations of letters and words are inserted into the 
text, which influence a man beneficially. You can feel these influences while reading it, 
when your hearing is not disturbed by sounds produced by artificial things and 
mechanisms. Natural sounds like: the singing of birds, the sound of rain, the rustling of 
leaves in the trees help to produce positive influences. 



Translator. 


Larisa Malgosheva-Bartone 

12 Suydam Sfc 

New Brunswick, NJ 08901 

1(732) 249-8772 

E-mail: Larisa 7777@ aol.com 


Official Websites 


http://www.ringingcedars.com/ 

http://www.vladimirmegre.com/ 

http://www.ringingcedarsofrussia.org/ 


"Anastasia" is Book 1 of The Ringing Cedars Book Series. 


This series of nine books tells the story of a remarkable woman named Anastasia, 
discovered in 1995 by a Siberian trader, Vladimir Megre, while he was plying the waters 
of the remote Ob River. Anastasia was born in the forest in 1969 to parents who died 
tragically when she was just a baby. Living for the most part without warm clothes, food 
cultivation or man-made shelter, she has survived on fruit, nuts, berries and mushrooms, 
brought to her by "wild" animals with which she lives in peaceful harmony. Megre 
initially spent three days with Anastasia, during which time she displayed such 
astounding knowledge, power and wisdom that he abandoned his business and, at her 
request, began writing this series. She told him she would encode the books with an 
energy that would cause them to sell in the millions. Despite his lack of writing 
experience, this is exactly what happened. It is Anastasia's ability to strike a chord in the 
heart of the reader that makes these books so very unusual. The purity and power of her 
words is provoking an outpouring of joy and hope in people from all walks of life. The 
series has sold over 11 million copies and has been translated into 20 different languages. 
This is not the authorized English Edition. 



Vladimir Megre 

Author of The Ringing Cedars Series 



Vladimir Megre, born in 1950, was a well-known entrepreneur from a Siberian city of 
Novosibirsk. 

In 1994, during a stop on a trading trip along the mighty Ob River, a Siberian elder told 
Vladimir Megre about the existence of "ringing cedars" — sacred trees which can heal 
bodily diseases and elevate the human spirit. The elder told him of such a cedar growing 
in the Siberian backwoods. 

Intrigued, but committed to his present venture, Vladimir Megre later began to delve into 
literature on Siberian cedar trees and became one of the first Russian businessmen to 
rediscover the tremendous folk medicinal, nutritional and commercial value of virgin oil 
pressed from Siberian cedar nuts. It seemed that knowledge of the secret techniques of 
pressing the oil had been lost. 

In 1995, determined to rediscover this secret and launch a highly lucrative production of 
cedar nut oil, Vladimir Megre organized a second expedition along the River Ob. On this 
trip however, an encounter with the elder's granddaughter, named Anastasia, transformed 
him so deeply that he abandoned his commercial plans, his trading business and 
temporarily even his family, and instead went to Moscow to fulfill his promise to 
Anastasia to write a book about what she had shared with him. Anastasia had reassured 
him that his books would sell in the millions. 



True to her promise, Anastasia's messages in the Ringing Cedars Series have spread like a 
raging wildfire across Russia and Europe, where news reporters are now writing about a 
"new dawn" unfolding and an "eco-village revolution" taking place, which may change 
the country's — and the whole world's — destiny. 

Vladimir Megre could not have known that his 1994-95 trade trips would change his 
entire life and affect the whole of humanity. Yet this appears to be the inevitable impact 
of his discovery of Anastasia and her remarkable messages for the world as chronicled in 
the Ringing Cedars Series. 

Now English readers are excitedly devouring these books — with more than 100,000 
copies sold already — and bookstores claiming "these books are flying off the shelves!" A 
wave of excitement is now sweeping the English-speaking world as everyday 100's more 
readers discover his books. 


Vladimir Megre presently lives near the city of Vladimir, Russia, 240 km (150 miles) east 
of Moscow. He can be contacted by e-mail at megre@online.sinor.ru (Please note that he 
doesn't read or speak English.) 



Anastasia 


Remarkable woman of the Siberian forest. 


Anastasia is considered to be a surviving member of an ancient Vedic culture, whose 
powers and knowledge far exceed anything known today. She is the inspiration for the 
Ringing Cedars Series. According to Megre’s account, she was born in 1969, in the 
Western Siberian taiga (boreal forests) not far from the city of Surgut on the river Ob. 

Her parents died tragically in a forest accident when she was just a baby. She lives in the 
wilderness — for the most part without warm clothes, food cultivation or man-made 
shelter — and survives on fruit, nuts, berries and mushrooms, brought to her by "wild" 
animals with which she lives in peaceful harmony. 

She consistently displays the most developed psychic and mental powers including 
remote viewing and healing, mind reading and seemingly perfect memory. When 
challenged to solve some of society's most complex social, health and environmental 
problems, after only a few minutes lying on her back on the ground, with eyes closed and 
just her fingertips twitching, she has provided answers in such incredible detail, that 
witnesses have been left flabbergasted. 

She says these powers are natural to Mankind and in these books she describes exactly 
how they may be regained by any one of us. 

Most of all she is a beautiful mystery — one who has changed the landscape of 
metaphysical thought with her foresight and innate wisdom. 



Overview 


There is so much mind-blowing material in these books it's almost impossible to give you 
an overview! What we can tell you is this. . . 

This real-life story begins in 1995. . . 

A trader prepares his ships to embark on the most remarkable trip of his life — a trip that 
will change the course of millions of human lives. Ahead of him lies the mighty Ob River 
— winding and snaking for 3,500 miles through the Siberian taiga — the vast boreal forest 
— that stretches across Northern Europe, Alaska and Canada. 

A warning! Nothing you have ever read before can prepare you for the journey you are 
about to take. 

You are about to meet Anastasia — a beautiful young woman — discovered by the author, 
living alone deep in the remote wild forests of Siberia. She is considered to be a surviving 
member of an ancient Vedic civilisation whose extraordinary powers and knowledge far 
exceed anything known today. 

Anastasia's powerful, myth-shattering messages reveal a profound wisdom grounded in 
ancient knowledge; they expose suppressed secrets and hidden historical facts that will 
completely change your understanding of our past, and offer a whole new paradigm for 
our planet's future. 

Anastasia will lift you up and hurl you into a future that is. . . well. . . everything you 
imagined life could and certainly should be! 

The twist is. . . it's here NOW! 

Anastasia will have you dancing with delight and squealing with excitement as you re- 
discover YOU. . . in all your glory! 

Anastasia's messages will simply blow your mind! 

Her soft-spoken words go straight to your heart — like nothing you have ever read! 

And the more you read them. . . the better you’ll feel. 

Anastasia will restore your hope for the future and re-ignite your passion for life. After 
reading these books — nothing will be quite the same. . . 



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ANASTASIA 


AND THE RINGING CEDARS OF RUSSIA 


Reviews: 


reviewed by Donald J. Supkov, PhD, Professional Hydrologist 

For uncounted eons of time, humanity has been traveling on a road of exploration, 
encountering the wonders of Mother Nature while benefiting from the uncounted gifts 
provided freely by Mother Nature. During this voyage of exploration humanity started 
out as hunter-gatherers to obtain nourishment to sustain itself along the way. In this phase 
of the explorative journey, humans had very intimate contact with Mother Nature in order 
to learn the ways of Mother Nature in order to survive. 

In the course of time, humanity developed agriculture and animal husbandry and further 
reaped the benefits provided by Mother Nature. As agriculturalists, humans became more 
tied to a specific location because of the requirements needed for agricultural crops which 
are attached to the ground and thus are not prone to wander around the land as their 
human caretakers are able to do. 

But a blessing provided by Mother Nature to humanity through the gift of agriculture was 
the ability to provide a surplus of food, far beyond the needs of the people actually 
remaining fixed in the places of crop production. This allowed the development of 
civilization a wide diversity of job descriptions, seemingly unconnected to Mother Nature 
compared to the hunter-gatherers and the agriculturalists. 

Because of the bounties provided by Mother Nature through the agriculturalists, some 
individuals became free to continue the voyage of exploration to view first hand what 
Mother Nature had to offer in more distant and remote locations. This has given rise to 
the hero adventurer who travels to distant places and returns to his native land with 
stories relating his voyage of exploration. These adventure exploration stories frequently 
have associated with them descriptions of some fabulous gift or treasure provided by 
Mother Nature. Examples come to mind such as Jason and the Golden Fleece, Ponce de 



Leon and the Fountain of Youth, Marco Polo and the stones that burn (coal) from China. 


As civilization developed and spawned the industrial revolution, humanity accelerated 
the exploitation of these gifts from Mother Nature such as coal, oil, natural gas, iron, 
various minerals, lumber, waterpower, while at the same time becoming detached from 
the source of these gifts. 

While the non-food raising members of agricultural society became more and more 
dependent on only a few crops as a food supply, such as corn, wheat, and rice, they 
became afflicted with various ailments that characterize modern society. This condition is 
contrasted with the Hunzas in northern Pakistan who thrive disease-free to ripe old ages 
solely by eating organically grown crops and by drinking “glacier milk”, the milky 
glacial melt water loaded with finely pulverized rock. 

The indigenous people from around the world seem to have within each tribe a “medicine 
man” or shaman, who is most intimately connected with Mother Nature. The shaman 
collects various herbs from Mother Nature's storehouse and uses them to help heal any 
member of the tribe who becomes afflicted with some sort of ailment. 

Perhaps there is some sort of inner knowledge deep within the human psyche that keeps 
reminding us that somewhere Mother Nature has provided a gift, hidden in plain view, 
that will prove to contain a cure for any ailment that afflicts humans. Perhaps this inner 
knowledge is what makes the game of Easter Egg Hunt so popular among children. 
Maybe this is why older children and young adults enjoy the game of Treasure Hunt so 
much. But even though mature adults are no longer tied to the soil in a civilized agrarian 
society devoted to supporting the growth of industrialization, most of us still can not 
travel to far and distant places to explore the wonders and gifts of Mother Nature. So we 
provide the where with all to allow surrogates to do the adventuring for us. 

Perhaps the best example is of humans collectively sending a few astronauts to the Moon. 
What a grand adventure all humanity was able to participate in via the wonders of 
television! That is big time adventure! These explorer adventurers, who flew to the moon, 
have taken on hero status along with Marco Polo, Columbus and Magellan who merely 
made long trips on the surface of the Earth. But there are other explorer adventurers who 
made very short trips and discovered other gifts from Mother Nature. Consider Loenhoek 
who made a microscope and then traveled no farther than to the inside of a drop of water 
and there discovered a whole new world of living organisms. Microbiologists have since 
explored inside common soil samples and there discovered more gifts from Mother 
Nature consisting of antibiotics such as penicillin. Biologists are continuing to explore 
the tropical rainforests for more gifts from Mother Nature, hoping to find more cures for 
human ailments. 

Perhaps one of the least likely places for an adventurer to explore for gifts from Mother 
Nature from the perspectives of an American reader is Siberia. Now that is a place that 
could use a little bit of public relations work! What comes to mind at the mention of the 
name Siberia? Snow, ice, frigid cold, remoteness, desolation, prison camps? Perhaps 
some frozen mammoths still locked in a deep freeze from the time of the last ice age? I 



think you will have a pleasant surprise when you accompany Vladimir Merge in his 
exploration of Russia and share in his discovery of more wonderful gifts from Mother 
Nature: the Ringing Cedars of Russia, and Anastasia, a modern day shaman from the 
wilds of Siberia. When I say wild, it is really an understatement! Leam about the many 
precious gifts from Mother Nature that are hidden in plain view which Anastasia desires 
to reveal to the entire world, including the great healing powers of the Ringing Cedars of 
Russia. If you find that the healing powers of the Ringing Cedars are beyond belief, you 
may still benefit from reading what Vladimir Megre has to say, since you will find that 
this is also a very readable love story like none other you have ever read. 

Although, the story was originally written in Russian, you will find that the English 
translation made by Larisa Malgosheva-Bartone reads like any story written in English 
and shows that humans are basically the same everywhere, no matter where they live and 
no matter what language they speak. 

28 Sefton Circle Piscataway, N.J. 

08854, 08854, USA 

Phone: (732) 752-3189 Date: February 4, 2001 



Maureen Jordan, M. A. 

Education, College of New Jersey, USA 
Teacher of Art and English 

On Larisa Bartone's request I have recently read her translation of Vladimir Megre's 
Anastasia, The Ringing Cedars of Russia. Larisa has a very good command of English 
that was why my corrections were very insignificant. 

I found the book to be written in fluent everyday English that was quite easy to 
understand. The story has a nice flow. It held my interest throughout, and I think it would 
do the same for the general reading public in the USA. I recommend it highly. 

Maureen Jordan 52 Linden Lane Plainsboro, NJ 08536, USA Phone: (609) 799-8266 


Dr. Fred L. Kingsbury, 

Chiropractor 

As an American physician who has a natural/ holistic orientation, and a spiritual seeker 
for over 30 years I found Anastasia — The Ringing Cedars of Russia a grand journey into 
wonder, mystery, and Truth. A truly fascinating read which I recommend highly to all 
conscious beings. 

I believe that Larisa Bartone has done a great job translating it from Russian into English. 
The book reads well and requires no comments or explanations. 

Fred L. Kingsbury, D. C. 

25 Clyde Road, Suite 102 

Somerset, N.J. 08873, USA 

Phone:(732)873-1020 

Fax:732-873-1999 


E-mail: dr.fred@worldnet.att.net 



Jean Munzer, 

Director, 

Metaphysical Center of New Jersey, USA 


ANASTASIA, THE RINGING CEDARS OF RUSSIA is a mind and spirit-expanding book 
about Anastasia, a pure soul living in perfect harmony with Nature in the wilds of Siberia. 
She wishes good to everybody and has much to teach all who are willing and able to 
learn from her. She says: 

“I exist for those for whom I exist”. 

Reading about her is an innately rewarding experience for all of us. As people encounter 
this book their mind and hearts will be opened to the Truth that Anastasia teaches. Larisa 
Malgosheva-Bartone's translation of the book into English is excellent. I believe it will 
open Anastasia's teachings to English speaking readers all over the world. Larisa is the 
right channel to convey the energy, which has been instilled into the Russian variant of 
this book by Anastasia. 

Jean Munzer 

10 Pequot Rd. 

Oakland, New Jersey 

07436, USA 

Phone: 1(201)337-6276 


DEDICATED TO Anastasia N. L. Briditskaya 

From the book I've learned, — in Siberia a girl is living in the woods — Anastasia. She is 
gathering the forest gifts and brings them to the crowed cities. 

In your clean Siberian forests you are a flowing brook. Your loving fire is burning evil 
down giving us a beam of light thoughts. 

Stay in the woods, our precious, don't come out to the bustling world. As it has lots of 
evil and darkness stay away for your sonny-boy's sake. 



You are a sister in our God's image creation of good is your only wish. To save your son 
and you, our sweetness, is the only problem for us in existence. 


In your virgin forest as in the Lord's house You are drinking the morning dew from 
flowers. Our souls are rejoicing now just because you exist, you are there. 


You've come to us, Anastasia, 

To open our eyes to the world, 

So our souls could shine in the light, 

To teach us to create what's good and right! 

To live in peace with the entire universe, To let only pure thoughts flow, To find our way 
in the midst of existence, To let the wings of God’s Spirit grow carrying us home. 

The only thing we need is love and patience To learn to create the Good! That's why we 
should ask the blessings from our God-Father in heaven. 

To be like you, Anastasia, — 

It is not given to all of us. 

We are to work hard with a lot of efforts 

To find our way into the world of yours. 

And let you radiate the warmth with that God's beam of yours. You've come to us filled 
with love to create only kindness and what is right. 

Your beauty is special and unique, you've deserved Our Father's gift. You've become a 
beloved to everyone. The stroke of darkness will never touch you. 

Stay warm and be protected by our love always dwell in our thoughts, may you never 
suffer from malice Be saved by God and our spirits. 

Just loving you is to save you. You are in our hearts and dreams We are with you, our 
dear, to help you to overcome the darkness. God bless you! 



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(Again, just to piss you off!) 



Contents 


Chapter 1 RINGING CEDAR 

Chapter 2 MEETING 

Chapter 3 A BEAST OR A HUMAN BEING? 

Chapter 4 WHO ARE THEY? 

Chapter 5 FOREST BEDROOM 

Chapter 6 ANASTASIA 'S MORNING 

Chapter 7 ANASTASIA 'S BEAM 

Chapter 8 CONCERT IN TAIGA 

Chapter 9 WHO LIGHTS A NEW STAR 

Chapter 1 0 HER FA VORITE DA CHNIKS 

Chapter 1 1 DOCTOR SEED 

Chapter 1 2 WHO IS BEING STUNG BY BEES 

Chapter 13 HELLO, MORNING! 

Chapter 1 4 EVENING PROCED URE 

Chapter 1 5 IT WILL PREPARE EVERYTHING BY ITSELF 

Chapter 1 6 SLEEPING UNDER YOUR STAR 

Chapter 1 7 YOUR CHILD 'S HELPER AND EDUCATOR 

Chapter 18 


FOREST GYMNASIA 



ATTENTION TO MAN 


Chapter 19 


Chapter 20 A FLYING SA UCER? NOTHING SPECIAL 

Chapter 2 1 THE BRAIN - SUPER COMPUTER 

Chapter 22 “THERE WAS LIFE IN HIM AND THE LIFE WAS THE 

LIGHT OF PEOPLE” 

Chapter 23 IT IS NECESSARY TO CHANGE ONE 'S O WN WORLD 

OUTLOOK 


Chapter 24 
Chapter 25 
Chapter 26 
Chapter 27 
Chapter 28 
Chapter 29 
Chapter 30 
Chapter 3 1 
Chapter 32 
Chapter 33 


MORTAL SIN 

GETTING IN TOUCH WITH PARADISE 
WHO WILL BRING UP OUR SON? 

AFTER A WHILE 
A STRANGE GIRL 
TINYBUGS 

DREAMS - FUTURE CREATION 

ACROSS THE SPACE OF TIME OF THE DARK FORCES 

POWERFUL PEOPLE 

WHO ARE YOU, ANASTASIA? 



Chapter 1 


RINGING CEDAR 


In the spring of 1994 I chartered three river motorboats on which I accomplished a four 
months expedition up the Siberian river Ob. We started from Novosibirsk, moved up to 
Salekhard and downwards. The aim of the expedition was to regulate the economic 
connections with the regions of the Extreme North. 

The expedition ran under the name of Merchantman. The largest passenger motorboats 
was named after Patris Lumumba. (I believe that in the Western Siberian River Steam- 
Navigation, they give strange names to the ships like: Mariya Ulyanova, Patrice 
Lumumba, Mikhail Kalinin or some-thing like that, as if there were no other historically 
prominent personalities in Siberia). 

Our headquarters, the exhibition of Siberian entrepreneurs and a store were located on 
this ship. The caravan was to go to North for about 3,500 kilometers. We were to visit 
relatively large cities such as: Tomsk, Niznevartovsk, Surgut, Khant-Mansiysk, Salekhard 
as well as small settlements which are possible to reach with cargo only within a limited 
period of the navigation season. In the daytime the caravan's ships usually stopped at 
settlements. We were trading and negotiating establishing permanent economic 
connections. We moved on at night. When it was rather stormy, we preferred to moor at 
any settlement and organize evenings of recreation with dancing for the local youths. 

Such kind of recreation has very rare lately as all kinds of clubs and Houses of Culture 
have become very dilapidated. Cultural and educational work is almost neglected there. 
Sometimes we were floating for 24 hours without stopping as there were no settlements, 
only taiga (virgin forest) all over. The only means of communication for many, many 
kilometers around was the river. At that time it did not occur to me since it was outside 
my province, that at one of those kilometers fortune had prepared for me a meeting which 
would change my life completely. Here at a tiny village consisting of just a couple of 
small houses, far removed from the nearest big settlement which was hundreds of 
kilometers away, I ordered the leading ship to be moored to the bank. I planned to dock 
there for three hours, just to let my people relax while walking around the village. At the 
same time it was an opportunity for the native population to buy some goods from us and 
in exchange to purchase fish and wild herbs at a low price. While there, two local old 
men addressed me as the leader of the caravan with a very strange request. One of them 
looked older than the other. The older one was quiet and the younger one started to speak. 
He tried to convince me to lend them at least 50 men from the crew. I should like to 
mention that our crew consisted of only 65 people. They proposed to lead us into the 



taiga, 25 kilometers away from the riverbank where we were docking. They wanted to cut 
down, what he called, a Ringing Cedar. The cedar, according to his estimations was 
almost 40 meters high. He suggested that we saw the tree 'into pieces so it would be 
possible to carry it by hand to the mother ship. Then they wanted us to cut those pieces 
into smaller ones so each of us could take a piece for ourselves and a few more to give to 
our relatives, friends and anybody who would like to receive them as a gift. The old man 
said that the cedar was not an ordinary one. A piece of it was to be carried as a pendant on 
a string. Moreover, while putting it on the chest it was necessary to stand barefooted on 
grass, pressing it to one's naked chest with the left palm. In a minute one would feel a 
very pleasant warmth coming from the cedar piece, then one would experience a 
sensation of a light flash flowing through the body. On occasion, when one felt the desire, 
it was recommended to rub it with the linger tips on that side of the cedar piece which 
was not touching the body. While polishing it, one should hold the piece by pressing the 
thumbs to the opposite side which does not face the body. In three months the owner of 
the Ringing Cedar piece will feel considerable improvement in one's health, and may 
experience healing from many diseases. “Even from AIDS?” I asked, trying to explain 
the symptoms of this disease, telling them what I knew myself from past reading. The 
man answered confidently with firm belief, “From any illness!” According to his 
affirmation that was the least of it. Most important was the fact that the owner of such a 
piece of cedar would become more kind, more successful and more talented. At that time 
I did not know much about the healing power of cedar, but its abilities sounded to me 
absolutely unrealistic. Then I told the old men that over there on “the big land” (the 
industrial areas with big cities) the women preferred to decorate themselves with gold 
and silver jewelry to attract the attention of other people. “ They are wearing them 
because they don't realize that gold is dust compared to one piece of this cedar,” he 
responded confidently. Trying to avoid argument and paying respect to their age, I said, 
“Well, may be... If a great wood carver would apply his skill and create something 
extraordinarily beautiful..”. 

“One can carve, of course, but it is better to polish it by oneself, with one's own fingers, 
when one's soul chooses to do it. Then the piece of cedar will look beautiful outside”. 
While saying this he hurriedly unbuttoned his worn down jacket and shirt and showed 
something which was hanging on his chest. It was a round, protuberance or, rather, an 
oval thing. There was a fancy, inconspicuous design on it in violet, crimson and reddish 
brown. The fibers of wood looked like tiny brooks. I am not an expert on works of art, 
though I have visited a variety of galleries and museums. The world famous masterpieces 
did not excite me as much as this fascinating object hanging on the old man’s chest. It 
touched my feelings and emotions much more strongly than my visit to the famous 
Tretyakov Gallery in Moscow. “How long have you been polishing your piece of cedar?”, 
I asked. “Ninety three years”, was the answer. “Well, and how old are you?”, I asked 
again. “One hundred and nineteen”, he said. I did not believe his answer at that moment. 
He looked not more than seventy five or so. He did not pay any attention to my doubts. 
The old man, being a bit excited, started to convince me that a piece of cedar would look 
as beautiful on anyone in three years only. Eventually it would get better and better, 
especially on women. The body of the owner would produce a wonderful aroma, 
incomparable to any perfume created by man. I was aware that the scent which was 
emanating from both men was very pleasant indeed. Even though I am a smoker yet I 



could smell it. They say that the smoker's sense of smell is usually weaker. I also noticed 
that his vocabulary differed from those of the native population. The phrases and word 
combinations he used were certainly not characteristic of the inhabitants of the far North. 
Some of these are still reverberating in my ears, even the melody and intonation. The old 
man spoke like this: “God has created the cedar as an accumulator of cosmic energy. A 
man, when he feels love, is producing radiation. Within a fraction of a second, this 
radiation comes back to the earth after being reflected from the planets above and gives 
life to everything living. The sun, one of the heavenly bodies, is reflecting an incomplete 
spectrum of this radiation. Only light radiation from a man goes to the cosmos and comes 
back to the Earth again solely as a benevolent, positive one. 

A man who possesses malicious feelings emanates only dark radiation. It can't ascend so 
it goes deep down inside the Earth. Having been reflected from the planet's depths, it 
comes back to the surface in the form of volcanic eruptions, earthquakes and wars. The 
highest achievement of reflected dark radiation is its direct influence on man. It increases 
the malicious feelings in him. 

The lifetime of cedar is 550 years. Day and night it catches and accumulates all spectrum 
of light energy through millions of its needle leaves. During the cedar's lifetime, all kinds 
of objects are passing over it, reflecting this energy. Even a tiny piece of cedar contains 
more energy than all manmade energy producing units taken together. Cedar receives the 
emanation from man's energy through the Cosmos. It preserves and gives the energy back 
to the Cosmos when its level goes down and accordingly it goes down in man too. This 
includes everything living and growing on the Earth. It happens, though very seldom, 
that cedars just accumulate but don't give back the accumulated energy. When such 
cedars are five hundred years old they start to ring, thus they are trying to communicate. 
They give a welcome sign, inviting man to use their energy on Earth for good purposes. 
Such a cedar produces a vibrating ringing sound for three years if it does not come in 
contact with people. After these three years, if it fails to give its energy accumulated via 
the. Cosmos directly to man, it loses the energy by burning it within itself. The torturous 
process of burning-dying lasts for twenty seven years. Recently, we have found this kind 
of cedar. According to our estimation it has been ringing for two years already, it means 
that only one year is left. It is necessary to cut it and give it to people”. The old man had 
been speaking for a long time, his voice filled with a quiet assurance. When he became 
excited, he polished his piece of cedar with his finger tips very quickly, as if he were 
playing a musical instrument. It was pretty cold; a fresh wind was blowing from the river, 
but his worn jacket and shirt were still unbuttoned. A member of our firm, Lidiya 
Petrovna, came down and told us that the crew was ready to leave and they were waiting 
for me. So I had to say “Good bye” to the strange old men and went on board. It was 
impossible for me to fulfill their request: three days' delay would cost us great losses. 
Everything I had been told by those men I took as an extreme superstition or as one of the 
local myths. The next day during our business planning meeting I noticed that Lidiya 
Petrovna was rubbing a piece of cedar hanging on her chest. Later on she told me that 
after I had left she saw that the old man I was talking with looked very confused and 
unhappy while watching me leave. Then he addressed his companion speaking very 
excitedly, “How come... I absolutely can't speak their language... I have failed to 
convince them. I could not! I've failed! Nothing has come of it”. The one who looked 



older told him, “You did not sound convincing, my son. You did not reach their 
consciousness” “When I was already walking up the steps”, Lidiya Petrovna went on, 
“the old man, the one who was speaking to you, suddenly rushed to me, caught my hand, 
led me down the steps to the grass, took out of his pocket a string with this piece of cedar 
wood. He put it on me, pressed it to my chest with my palm by putting his hand on mine. 
Immediately I felt a trembling sensation all over my body. When I was leaving, he kept 
saying, "Happy voyage! Be happy, all of you! Come next year. All the best to all of you. 
We shall be waiting for you. Happy voyage!" 

I recalled that when our motor boat was casting off, I could see the old man waving his 
hand. Then all of a sudden he sat down on the grass. After a while I looked at them again 
through binoculars. The old man was sill sitting on the grass. His shoulders were 
shuddering... The one who was older was bending over him soothing his head. 

On our arrival back to Novosibirsk I felt sick with acute pains. The diagnoses were: 
duodenal ulcer and osteochandrous of the thoracic spine, I was admitted to a hospital. 
While in the hospital I was shielded from the everyday routine of the outer world by the 
quietness of the hospital room. It was a nice room, deluxe' for one person, which 
provided me with a nice opportunity to analyze the results of the four month expedition 
and make a draft of a business plan for the future. Memory was bringing me again and 
again to my meeting with the strange old men and the subject of our discussion. Upon 
my request friends and family members supplied me with all kinds of literature on cedar. 
By comparing all the reading I became more and more amazed. Eventually I started to 
believe everything the old men had told me. “Maybe they are right to some extent, or, 
maybe they were one hundred percent right”, I thought to myself. The books on folk 
medicine tell much about the cedar's healing power. Everything, starting with the needle 
leaves to its bark has highly efficient healing qualities. That was what the books said 
repeatedly. They reported that the texture of cedar wood looks very beautiful and it is 
widely used by craftsmen. I learned that it is good for furniture. It is also used for the 
resonance boards of musical instalments. The cedar's conifer has highly fitocidic 
properties and the ability to disinfect environmental air. The cedar timber has a special, 
very pleasant balsamic flavor. If you put a small piece of cedar wood in a house, it will 
keep moths away. 

Popular scientific literature also points out that the quality of cedar growing in Northern 
areas is much higher than those in the South. Back in 1792 academician P. S. Pallas wrote 
that the Siberian cedar nuts rejuvenate man’s power. They also bring back youthfulness, 
stimulate the immune system considerably, increasing the physical body's resistance 
against many diseases. World history knows a great number of historical phenomena 
directly or indirectly connected with cedar. Here is one of them. 

A half literate countryman, Gregory Rasputin, from a remote Siberian village, was from 
the region where Siberian cedar grows. He came to Moscow in 1907 when he was 
already 50 years of age. He startled the royal family, where he was heartily welcomed, 
because of his prophecies; He was sexually involved with many distinguished ladies. 
Those who were trying to kill him were shocked by the fact that having been hit by many 
bullets, he was still alive. His vitality was amazing. The secret was that he had been 



brought up in the region where cedar grows and he had been fed on cedar nuts. 


The journalists of that period summarized his endurance: “At 50 years of age, he could 
start an orgy at noon, continuing his drunken ordeals till 4 a. m.. After erotic involvement 
and drinking heavily he went right to church for morning services where he prayed till 8 
a.m.. After returning home, he drank a lot of tea as if nothing had happened before, 
Grishka received visitors till 2 p.m. Then accompanied by a group of ladies, he went to a 
Russian bathhouse with a steamer and then went directly to a suburban restaurant. There 
he repeated the previous night's performance. No ordinary man could possibly stand up to 
that kind of routine”. 

Today, the several times world and Olympic champion in wrestling Alexander Karelin, 
currently unbeatable, is also a Siberian, again from the region where Siberian cedar 
grows. The strong man has eaten cedar nuts all his life. Is this by chance? In Russia 
people usually wish you a “Siberian health”. I am just giving you the facts which one can 
find in press issues or popular science literature or what living witnesses can prove. One 
such witness is the previously mentioned Lidiya Petrovna, who had received the piece of 
Ringing Cedar wood from the old man. She is thirty six now, married, a mother of two 
children. Her colleagues who are in touch with her have noticed the great changes which 
have happened to her. She has become more benevolent and smiles more often. Her 
husband, whom I know also, has told me that lately they have more mutual 
understandings. By the way, he mentioned that his wife had even become younger 
looking and has stimulated more feelings in him, and, to add to it, more respect and even 
love had appeared in their relationship. 

Yet, all these facts and proofs are nothing in comparison to the most important ones 
which anyone can find in the Bible. After reading the Holy Scripture all my doubts 
disappeared like morning fog. The third book of Moses in the Old Testament teaches how 
to heal people and disinfect houses with cedar, “... the priest shall order that two ritually 
clean birds be brought, along with a piece of cedar wood, a red cord, and a sprig of 
hyssop” (Leviticus 14,4). 

When I compared all the facts and information collected from different sources, the 
world's wonders fade compared to this one. Namely that the great mysteries which keep 
exciting human minds seem insignificant compared to the mystery of a Ringing Cedar. 

Now there are no doubts for me as far as its existence is concerned. Popular science 
literature and ancient scripts have scattered all doubts. The Bible mentions cedar forty 
two times in the Old Testament. Moses from the Old Testament, evidently knew about 
cedar much more even than the Old Testament records. 

We are used to the fact that Mother Nature provides us with different plants capable of 
healing different human diseases. Popular science literature proves the healing abilities of 
cedar. In addition, many serious and authoritative explorers such as the academician P. S. 
Pallas concur. At the same time they all agree with what the Old Testament says. 

Now, I would like you to pay attention to the following facts: 



The Old Testament, pointing out cedar and only cedar, does not mention any other trees 
but cedar alone. Doesn't this mean that cedar is the most powerful of plants existing in the 
realm of Mother Nature? What is it? Is it a medicinal organic unit? 

Yet, that is not all. The following story from the Old Testament reveals much more 
enigmatic things. King Solomon was building a temple of cedar which had been 
transported from Lebanon. He asked King Hiram a favor: “... So send your men to 
Lebanon to cut down cedars for me. My men will work with them, and I will pay your 
men whatever you decide. As you well know, my men don't know how to cut down trees 

as well as yours do So Hiram supplied Solomon with all the cedar and pine logs that 

he wanted, and Solomon provided Hiram with 100,000 bushels of wheat and 110,000 
gallons of pure olive oil every year to feed his men” (1 Kings 5; 6,7,9,10). 

What kind of people were they? What kind of secrets did they know? I've heard that 
even now in the remote villages, deep in the taiga there are old men who somehow can 
choose cedar trees for construction purposes. But at that time, more than two thousand 
years ago, I believe, everybody must have known this. 

However, even at that time very special people were required for construction work with 
cedar. The temple was constructed; they started inauguration services and see what 
happened: “... when all the leaders had gathered, the priests lifted the covenant box and 
carried it to the Temple... and put it in the Most Holy Place... There was nothing inside 
the covenant box except the two stone tablets which Moses had placed there at Mount 
Sinai, when the Lord made a covenant with the people of Israel.... As the priests were 
leaving the Temple, it was suddenly filled with a cloud shining with the dazzling light of 
the Lord's presence and they could not go back in to perform their duties...” (1 Kings 
8,5,6,9,10,11). 

What kind of a cloud was it? How and from where did it enter the temple? What did it 
represent? Was it an energy? A spirit? What kind of phenomenon was it and how was it 
interconnected with cedar? 

The old man spoke about a Ringing Cedar as an accumulator of some kind of energy... 
What kind of energy? What cedar is more powerful: a Lebanese or a Siberian one? 
Academician P. S. Pallas has told us that the healing qualities of cedar increase as one is 
moves closer to the border of forest tundra. This means that the Siberian one is more 
powerful. The Bible reads: “... judge it accordingly to the fruit”. Which means, that the 
Siberian one wins again! Why is this not more widely known? The Old Testament, the 
science of the previous century and modem texts are of the same opinion about cedar, no 
contradictions exist! 

The Mother of Agni Yoga Teaching or Living Ethics, Helena Roerich, has said: “... At the 
kings' inauguration rituals of ancient Khora-Sana a cedar tar chalice was always present 
Druids called a chalice of cedar tar a "Chalice of Life" and only later on, when they had 
lost their spiritual consciousness was it replaced by blood. The Zoroastrian Fire came as a 
result of burning down the cedar tar in the chalice”. 



Specifically what did our forefathers know about cedar? Has its properties and actions 
been hidden till now? Could it be nothing? Does it belong to so called “lost knowledge”? 
What do the old people know about it? Then suddenly something came to the surface of 
my memory, the age old event which produced shivering all over my body, though, at that 
time, I did not give any meaning to it. 

At the beginning of our perestroyka (the period which followed the crash of communism) 
I, being a president of the association of entrepreneurs of Siberia, got a call from 
Novosibirsk oblispolkom (the regional executive committee). At that time the executive 
committees and regional committees of CPSU still existed. So I was asked to come to the 
meeting with a highly recognized western businessman. He had a letter of 
recommendation from our government. Some of the entrepreneurs and the members of 
the staff from the regional executive committee were present at the meeting. The western 
businessman looked like “a white shark”. He had oriental features. He was wearing a 
turban, his fingers were decorated with expensive rings. 

We were speaking, as usual, during these meetings about possibilities of cooperation in 
different fields. Then all of a sudden he said, “We could buy cedar nuts from you”. While 
he was saying it, some kind of tension overwhelmed him, his sharp eyes stared, 
examining the reaction of those present. I have remembered this situation very well 
because even at that time I was surprised, thinking to myself, “Why has he changed like 
this? What does it mean?” After the meeting was over the lady interpreter from Moscow 
who was accompanying him came up to me and told me that he would like to talk to me. 

The businessman said confidentially that if I organized absolutely fresh cedar nut 
delivery, I could have, besides the official price, considerable personal benefits. It would 
be necessary to deliver the nuts to Turkey, where they produce some kind of oil from 
them. I promised him to think the proposition over. 

Now, I've made up my mind to investigate this issue and find out what kind of oil it was. 
I've managed to discover that at the London Stock Market, which is a world price 
standard, cedar nut oil costs, up to five hundred American dollars per kilogram. We were 
asked to deliver cedar nuts approximately at a price of two to three dollars per kilogram 
for cedar nuts. 

I called one of my colleagues in Warsaw and asked him to investigate whether it was 
possible to reach the consumer directly as well as to get the technology of its production. 
In a month I got the answer that it was impossible either to reach the consumer or to get 
any information about the technology. Generally speaking, in this field the Western forces 
that were involved would rather stay away from it and forget about it. After that I turned 
to a good friend of mine who works at the Novosibirsk Institute of Potrebcooperatsiya 
(consumer cooperation) K. Rakunov. I purchased cedar nuts, financed the labor expenses 
and in the institute laboratory they produced one hundred kilograms of cedar nut oil. I 
also hired people who have discovered some interesting papers in the archive documents, 
which revealed that in pre-Revolutionary Russia and for a while after, there was an 
organization in Siberia under the name of Siberian Cooperator. The members of this coop 



were trading all kinds of oil including cedar nut oil. They had representatives in 
Khabarovsk, London and New York. They had a lot of money in Western banks. After the 
revolution the organization fell apart and many of its former members left Russia. 

Krasin, a member of the Bolshevik government, had a meeting with the former chief of 
this orga-nization and suggested to him to come back to Russia. But he answered that he 
would help Russia even more if he was out of the country. 

The archive materials read that the cedar oil was produced with the help of wooden 
presses (no metal should be involved) in many remote Siberian villages. These were 
located deep inside the taiga. Its quality depended on the time of harvesting and nut 
processing. However, we failed to determine the particular time of harvesting: neither the 
archive nor research institutions could find out this information. The secret has been lost. 
The cedar oil's healing properties have no comparison. But could it be possible that the 
secret has been sold somewhere in the West by somebody who immigrated from Russia? 

How do they explain the fact that the greatest healing remedy, the cedar nut which is 
growing in Siberia, and the unit which is producing its oil is situated in Turkey? 

And what kind of forces in the West did my colleague from Warsaw mention? Why is it 
impossible to touch this issue? Aren't these forces pulling from the Russian Siberian taiga 
the healing remedy of unbelievable power? Why, having such healing wealth of the cedar 
products, which is so powerful and has been proved by centuries, even millenniums, are 
we instead spending millions or even billions of dollars buying Western medications and 
swallowing them like crazy? Why are we losing the knowledge which belonged to our 
quite recent ancestors, those who lived in our century? 

Do we need to speak about the Bible's precious readings which describe the events of 
ages long ago? What kind of strange forces are trying so hard to erase from our memory 
the knowledge of our forefathers? Moreover, they recommended to us “not even to stick 
our nose in it” as if it is not our business. They are trying to erase these things from our 
memory... and they have managed to do it! Somehow this realization made me so angry. 
“Well” I told myself, “whatever it will cost me, eventually I will fry to find out 
something”. I decided to repeat the expedition along the Ob river to the North, using for 
this purpose only the leading motor boat Patrice Lumumba. I loaded the holds with 
different goods. The movie hall was modified as a store. I had to employ new people. For 
some reason I did not want to take people from our company. While I was distracted from 
my regular business, the financial situation got worse. 

Within two weeks after our departure from Novosibirsk my security guards reported to 
me that the talks about Ringing Cedar had been overheard. According to the security 
service guys, among the newly employed staff there were speaking intelligently “strange 
people”. I started to call to my office some of the people from the crew, talked to them 
about the forthcoming campaign into the taiga. Some of them were ready to go even for 
free. Others asked big amounts of money as the journey into the taiga had not been 
commissioned by the agreement which they had signed. Of course there was a great 
difference between staying at the comfortable motor boat and hiking into the taiga for 25 



kilometers and carrying luggage on one's back. 


By that time I was completely short financially. I was not going to sell cedar, as the old 
man had said that it was necessary to give it as a gift. Moreover, the most important thing 
for me was not the Ringing Cedar itself but the secret of producing not just cedar oil but 
the healing one from regular cedar. Generally speaking, I was interested in any kind of 
information on this issue. Eventually, with the help of information from the security 
guards I became convinced that somebody was watching me. Especially when I came off 
board, though their goal was uncertain. Who was behind those who were watching me? I 
thought hard and decided to avoid doubts and mistakes. The best way was to outwit all 
of them. 



Chapter 2 

MEETING 


Giving no explanation to anybody, I ordered the crew to moor the motor boat not far from 
the place where a year ago I had had a meeting with the old men. I got to the village by a 
small motorboat. I gave orders to the captain of the motor boat to proceed with the 
commercial route further on up the river. 

My hope was to find those old men with the help of local people, to see the Ringing 
Cedar with my own eyes and discuss the manner of its delivery to the motor ship. Having 
fastened my motorboat to a stone, I planned to walk to the nearest house. However, I 
noticed a lonely woman standing on a hillside and I made up my mind to talk to her. The 
woman was wearing an old quilted jacket and a long skirt. High rubber galoshes were on 
her feet. They were the kind the great majority of the local population wear in the far 
Northern regions. She wore a shawl that covered her forehead and neck. It was difficult 
to tell her age. 

I said “Hello”, and asked her about the two men I had met there the previous year. 

“You were talking to my grandpa and great grandpa last year, Vladimir”, answered the 
woman. 

I was astonished: her voice was young, her articulation was very distinct, she was on 
familiar terms with me, using “thou” instead of “you”. Moreover, she had called me by 
my name. I could not remember the names of the old men and the bottom line was that I 
was not sure whether I had ever heard their name or told them mine. I thought for a while 
and then concluded that evidently, I had told them my name if she knew it. Therefore, I 
decided to follow her example and be on familiar terms with her too. 

“And what is your name?”, I asked. 

“Anastasia”, was the answer. She stretched out her hand, the palm facing down, as if 
waiting for a kiss. This kind of gesture for a village woman dressed in a quilted jacket 
and galoshes, standing on a deserted bank and trying to behave as if she was a lady of 
society, made me laugh. I shook her hand but I did not kiss it. Anastasia gave an 
embarrassed smile and suggested I go with her to the taiga where her family lived. 

“Although, you know, it is necessary to walk for twenty five kilometers. Does that disturb 
you?” 

“Well, sure it's pretty far away. Will you be able to show me the Ringing Cedar?” 



“I shall”. 


“Do you know everything about it? Will you tell me?” 

“I'll tell you what I know”. 

“Well, then let's go”. 

While we were walking Anastasia told me that their family lived in the cedar forest for 
many generations. According to her, her forefathers had been living there for thousands 
and thousands of years. They don't get in direct contact with the people of our civilization 
very often. These contacts take place far away from the places of their own dwelling but 
happen when they come to where larger settlements pretend to be hunters or residents of 
other 

villages. 

Anastasia herself has visited two large cities: Tomsk and Moscow. She stayed there only 
for a day. She did not even spend a night there. The aim of the other trips was to see with 
her own eyes whether her visualizations about the way of life of modem city dwellers 
were correct. By selling berries and dry mushrooms she managed to get clothes and 
money for her trips. One local woman gave Anastasia her own passport for this purpose. 

She did not share her granddads' idea of giving the Ringing cedar to many people. When 
I asked her “Why?”, she said that its pieces could get to good as well as to bad people 
and, as she believed, the greater portion of it would get to negative persons. She believes 
that finally it would bring more harm than good. The main thing to do, according to her, 
would be to help good people who are leading society towards the light, not into a dead 
end. If one were to try to help everybody, the imbalance between good and evil would 
remain the same or it could even get worse. After my meeting with the old men, I had 
managed to look through popular science literature and some historical and scientific 
works, which related the unusual properties of the cedar tree. That was why I was trying 
to get to the root of the matter Anastasia was talking about. I wanted to learn more about 
the way of life of the people of the cedar forest. I was thinking it over again and again, 
then I tried to visualize it. I tried to compare them with the Lykovs, the family well 
known to many readers of Komsomolskaya pravda. V. Peskova, a reporter on this 
newspaper published a series of articles under the headline: Taiga's Dead End. It was 
about the family which lived for a long time in the taiga. My impression about the Likovs 
was that they knew how to live in peace with nature but they were absolutely ignorant in 
their knowledge and understanding of modern civilized life and it actually ruined them 
when they got in contact with it. 

In this case the situation was quite different. Anastasia impressed me with her perfect 
knowledge of our civilized life and even more, with something else which was not quite 
clear to me yet! She was discussing with ease our urban life as if she knew it perfectly 
well. 



We had walked deep into the forest for about five kilometers, when she suddenly took off 
her quilted jacket, shawl, long skirt and put it into a hollow tree and only a short light 
dress was left on her. I was astonished by what I saw. If I believed in miracles I would 
categorize it as a miraculous transformation, a kind of metamorphosis. I was facing a 
very young woman with long golden hair and a splendid shape. Her beauty was 
extraordinary. She was an exceptional model. It was hard to imagine anybody who could 
possibly compete with her among the winners of the most prestigious beauty contests. 
Also, as it was revealed later on, her intellect was extremely sharp, too. Absolutely 
everything was appealing about her and she was full of charm. “Are you tired?”, she 
said, “Do you want to have a rest?” 

We sat down right on the grass and I had an opportunity to examine her face closer: no 
cosmetics at all, very regular features, well treated, perfect skin. These had nothing in 
common with the skin of common people of the Siberian remote places. She had large, 
kind gray eyes and smiling lips. Though she was wearing a light short dress, it looked 
rather like a night-dress. 

There was the impression that she did not feel cold and it was not higher than 12-15 
degrees Celsius. I decided to have a snack and took a sandwich and a flat bottle of cognac 
out of my bag. I offered a drink to Anastasia but she refused it. While I was enjoying my 
meal she stretched out on the grass as if exposing herself to the caressing sun rays. These 
being reflected from her turned up palms, were illuminating golden light. She was almost 
half naked. That woman was delightful! 

I examined her thinking to myself: “Well, why do women through out history always try 
to strip themselves without limitations. They show their legs, then breasts, then all of 
them together using low cut and mini dresses? Do they try their best to attract 
everybody’s attention? “Hello! Look at me! Look how wonderful I am, how open and 
accessible” What else can a man do? If he resists the temptation of the flesh it appears 
that he is holding a woman in low esteem. If he is attracted to her it appears that he is 
breaking the law given by God”. 

I asked her how she was not afraid to be alone in the forest. “I have nothing to be afraid 
of here”, was the answer. 

“I wonder, how would you defend yourself if you happen to come across two or three 
men, let's say geologists or hunters?”, I asked. She did not say a word, just smiled back. 

I thought to myself, “How could this young beauty, with extraordinary seductive abilities 
not feel scared of anything or anybody?” Then, you would never imagine what happened 
next! Even the memory of it brings back uncomfortable feelings. I put my arms around 
her shoulders and pulled her to me gently, giving her a hug. She did not resist much 
though one could feel that her resilient body was very strong. I did nothing else. The last 
thing I remember, before losing consciousness, were her words: “Don’t do it, calm 
down”. And yet before I did it, I remember perfectly well that I was terror-stricken. It was 
an unrealized fear, the kind one can experience in childhood when home alone and 



everything scares you. 


When I regained my consciousness, she was in front of me standing on her knees. Her 
hand was on my chest and with another one she was waving to somebody, who was 
somewhere above, as if expressing a negative answer. Who surrounded us invisibly? She 
was trying to show someone that nothing wrong had happened to her. Anastasia looked 
into my eyes. 

“Calm down, everything is over already”. 

“But what was it?”, I asked. 

“Harmony's unreceptiveness of your attitude regarding me, I mean the desire which came 
to you for me. Later on you will make it out yourself’. “What does it have to do with 
some kind of harmony? It was you who started to resist”. 

“That's right, me too. I did not welcome it It was not pleasant for me”. 

I sat down, pulled my bag closer to me. 

“Unbelievable! Look at her! "She did not welcome it Unpleasant..." Ha! You, women, the 
only thing you are all after is to seduce a man. You show your legs, expose your breasts, 
walk on spiked heels, though they are uncomfortable but still you wear them. You twist 
all of your private parts and as soon as it comes too close to the point... You start to talk 
like this: "Ah! I don't need it, I am not that kind of woman. What do you take me for?' 
Hypocrites! That's what you are! Now, look at yourself why have you taken your upper 
clothes off? It is not hot at all. Then you stretched yourself, got quiet and even more, you 
were smiling that way...”. 

“First of all I am not comfortable wearing any kind of clothes. I put it on only when I 
come out of the forest to meet people, just to look like everybody. And I laid down in the 
sun to rest not to disturb you while you were enjoying your meal”, she said. 

“Oh, yeah! You did not want to disturb me... But you did disturb me!” 

“Of course, any woman would like to attract a man's attention, but not only to her legs and 
breasts. It is desirable that the right one, who is the only one in the world for her, could 
see much more than her physical body and would not pass her by”. 

“But right now, right here nobody was passing by! Or what is that "much more" that one 
has to sec if right in the foreground the legs are sticking out? Somehow you women are 
illogical!” 

“Yes, you are right, to my great regret, it comes out exactly as you say... Shall we go, 
Vladimir? Have you finished your meal? Have you had a rest?” A thought crossed my 
mind, “Should I go further on with such kind of a lady philosopher?” Though I said, “All 
right, let's go”. 



Chapter 3 

A BEAST OR A HUMAN BEING? 


We proceeded on our way to Anastasia's house. Her clothes were left in a tree trunk as 
well as her galoshes. Only a short light dress was left on. She offered her help carrying 
my bag. Being bare footed, she was walking with an extraordinary ease and graciousness 
taking the lead, swinging my bag with such ease as if it were empty. 

We were talking all the way. It was fun to talk to her on different subjects. Sometimes 
Anastasia spun around while walking, then she would turn and walk backwards facing 
me. Being very much involved in our discussions, she did not watch her steps; it was 
unbelievable, but she never stumbled. She never pricked her bare feet from a knot of a 
dry twig. Sometimes she touched or gave a quick stroke to a leaf or a shrub twig. Now 
and then she bent down picked some blade of grass and ate it. “Just like the young of a 
wild animal”, I thought to myself. When she came across some berries, she offered them 
to me, I snacked together with her. Her body did not show any particular muscular 
system. 

Generally speaking, she was of medium build, neither skinny, nor stout. Her body was 
well nourished, resilient and very beautiful. Though I could tell that she was rather strong 
and her reactions were good too. When I stumbled, stretching my arms forward, she 
turned around with lightning speed, stretched her unoccupied arm and I fell down. My 
chest was right on her palm with widely spread fingers, so I did not even touch the 
ground with my hands. While doing it, she did not even interrupt herself from telling me 
something. When she helped me back on my feet, we moved on as if nothing had 
happened. At that time a thought crossed my mind about a gas pistol, which I had in my 
bag- While talking we had already covered a pretty good distance. Suddenly Anastasia 
stopped, put my bag under a tree and announced with joy, “Here we are! We are home”. 

I looked around. It was not a big well shaped clearing. There were flowers amidst 
majestic cedar trees but no hint of any constructions, I could not see even a shelter of 
branches. 

“Well, and where is your house? Where can we sleep, eat, get protection from rain?..”. I 
tried to clarify the situation. 

“This is my home. Everything is available here”. I was seized by a vague feeling of 


uneasiness. 



“Where is it all? Will you give me a kettle, at least, to boil some water over a campfire 
and an axe?” 

“Sorry, there is no kettle and there is no axe. We would manage better without starting a 
campfire...”. She replied. 

“What do you mean? How do you like that? She does not even have a kettle! I have run 
out of bottled water and you know it perfectly well. Do you remember, when I had 
finished my snack, I threw away the empty bottle? Now I have just two sips of cognac 
left. It will take a day to get to a river or the nearest settlement. I am awfully tired and 
thirsty. Well, can you tell me, where do you get drinking water?” 

On watching me getting nervous Anastasia got anxious too. She took me by my hand, 
pulling me across the clearing into the forest and tried to calm me down by saying, “Calm 
down, just don't worry, Vladimir! Please, don't get upset. I shall take care of everything. 
I'll do everything. You will have a rest, a nice sleep, you will not be cold. Do you want to 
drink? It is all right. There is no problem at all, I'll take care of it”. Ten or fifteen meters 
away from the clearing, behind the shrubs, right before my eyes I could see a small lake. 
Anastasia quickly scooped some water with her cupped hands and brought it to my Lips. 
“Here is water. Please, drink it”, she said. 

“What's the matter with you? Are you crazy? How is it possible to drink unboiled water 
from a forest puddle? Did you not see that I was drinking Borjomi, bottled mineral 
water? On our motorboat we use only filtered river water then we chlorinate and 
oxygenize it not only for drinking but for washing purposes too”. 

“It is not a puddle, first of all. This is clean and alive water. It is not the half dead one 
which you use. You can drink it. Look”. She moved her hands to her mouth and drank 
some water from it. And I don't know how the phrase had escaped my lips: “ Anastasia, 
you are a beast”. 

“But why "a beast"? Because my bed is not like yours? Because I don't have a car and all 
the kinds of equipment that you use?” 

“Because you live in the forest like a beast, you have nothing but yet you seem to be 
happy”. 

“Yes, I enjoy living here”. 

“You see, you are not denying it”. I tried to behave reasonably. 

“Do you believe that the main distinction of a man from anything living on the Earth is 
the availability for him of artificially made articles?”, She asked. 

“Yes, I do believe that. To be more precise, that is the civilized mode of life”. “Do you 
consider your way of life more civilized? Oh, of course, you do! You do believe it. But I 
am not a beast. I am a human”. 



Chapter 4 

WHO ARE THEY? 


Later on after I had spent three days in her company, I understood something about her 
way of life. At the same time some vexing questions occurred to me concerning our own 
way of life. Especially one question, which stayed in my mind relentlessly. 

“Well”, I thought to myself, we have created a vast and complicated educational system. 
Being guided by the system, we are teaching our children and one another: at 
kindergartens, schools, colleges and postgraduate study. This system gives us an 
opportunity to create, invent, fly to the cosmos and investigate. On following the system, 
we are, accordingly, creating our way of life. We are striving to get to know the cosmos, 
the atom, and all kinds of abnormal phenomena which we enjoy discussing and 
describing in sensational articles and popular science publications. Yet there is one 
phenomenon which, somehow, we are trying to evade. It looks as if we are afraid to 
speak about it. Maybe, we are afraid to do it simply because, it can easily break our 
system of education and scientific conclusions. Because it laughs at the objective reality 
of our existence. We are trying hard to pretend that this phenomenon does not exist. 
Though it does and will exist, no matter how hard we try to ignore it by turning our backs 
or trying to bypass it. Isn't it high time to take a closer and more attentive look at it. Who 
knows, maybe, by joining the efforts of the human mind as a whole, we'll manage to 
answer the question: Why have all, without exception, great thinkers of all times who 
have created different religious teachings, before creating these teachings had to go away 
from the civilized life to forests or deserts and live as hermits? 

"Put a mind to it, please, - they did not go to a | world famous library or a super academy, 
—just to a forest! Now the great majority of humankind follows or tries to follow these 
teachings. Why did Moses from the Old Testament go to Mount Sinai to write the 
famous Ten Commandments. 

Why did Jesus Christ seclude himself even from his disciples, when he left for the desert? 

Why did Siddhartha Gautama (later on they started to call him Buddha), the man who 
lived in India in the middle of the 6-th century B. C., seclude himself in a forest for seven 
years and after that came out and brought to the people his great Teaching? Hence it 
became stimulating, opening and extending human minds and is known as Buddhism. 

Or why not take our close predecessors who lived not long ago, prominent historical 
personalities: Serafim Sarovskey or Serge Radonezskey? 



They also went to a forest and shortly after that they managed to perceive such depths of 
universal wisdom that the mundane Tsars had to take the impassable roads just to get a 
piece of good advice from them. 

After a while at the place of their hermitages people constructed cloisters and majestic 
cathedrals. For example, theTroyitse-Serguievskaya Lavra in the city of Sergiev Posad in 
the Moscow region keeps attracting throngs of people. Can you believe it that everything 
had started just from a hermit?! 

Why? What or who was helping those people to get wisdom, giving them knowledge and 
pushing them closer to comprehension on the essence of existence? How did they live 
there? What were they doing? What were they thinking about staying alone, far away 
from human society?” 

These questions continued to bother me like an obsession soon after my contact with 
Anastasia. Therefore after I left the forest, I started to read everything I could find about 
hermits, though I have failed to get any answer. Strange as it may seem, nothing is 
available about their lives as hermits. 

This is my story, but now I am trying my best to describe the events of my three days stay 
in the forest at Anastasia's. I am describing my feelings and impressions which were 
influenced by my communication with her since I hope that some of my readers will 
manage to comprehend the essence of this phenomenon. 

Right now, after having drawn a bottom line under everything I had seen and heard, one 
thing is beyond any doubt. The people who are living a lonely life in the forest, as 
hermits, including Anastasia, can see everything which is taking place in our everyday 
life from an absolutely different perspective. 

Some of her notions and affirmations are diametrically opposed to those which we call 
“universally acknowledged” ones. Who is closer to the truth? Who can be a judge? My 
duty is just to describe everything exactly the way I had seen and heard it. By doing so I 
hope to give an opportunity to others to determine the answers on their own. 

Anastasia lives in the forest absolutely all by herself. She does not have any dwelling, she 
hardly wears any clothes and does not store any food to nourish herself. She is a 
descendant of those who have been living there for thousands and thousands of years and 
it looks like a different civilization. Anastasia was born there and is an inseparable part of 
Mother Nature. 

The phenomenon which looks extraordinary at first sight (remember, when I was 
overwhelmed by strong fears while I was trying to take possession of Anastasia and lost 
my consciousness) happens becomes very simple later on. For instance, a man tames a 
cat, a dog, an elephant, a tiger, an eagle and what not. In this particular case 
EVERYTHING around is tamed. And this “EVERYTHING” can't allow anything bad to 
happen to her. Anastasia told me that when she was quite a little baby her mother could 



leave her all by herself just on grass under a tree. 

“Why didn't you die of starvation?" I asked. The response was just a snap of her fingers. 
A squirrel appeared by her side and jumped right on her hand. Anastasia moved her hand 
with the animal close to her mouth and the squirrel passed a kernel of a cedar nut from its 
mouth right into Anastasia's. I did not take it as a miracle, because I remembered that in 
Novosibirsk Academy Township I saw a lot of squirrels. They are not afraid of people 
and even beg food from passers by, moreover they even get angry when they are not 
treated. Though in this case I had an opportunity to watch a radically opposite process. 

We know of numerous cases from fiction, press and TV programs in which babies were 
brought up by wild animals like wolves, for instance. In this particular case we can see 
that generation after generation are living permanently in close contact with Mother 
Nature and their relationship with the wild world differs from ours or any other known 
native tribes on Earth. 

“Why don't you feel cold while I need to wear a jacket?” I asked her. “Because”, she 
answered, the people who are covering themselves with clothes, hiding themselves from 
heat and cold in shelters eventually lose more and more of their abilities to adapt to 
environmental fluctuations. I have not lost this ability, that's why I don't need much 
clothing”. 



Chapter 5 


FOREST BEDROOM 


I was not prepared at all to sleep outdoors in a wild forest. Anastasia had put me to bed in 
a spaciously dugout. When I woke up, I had a feeling of felicity and comfort as if I were 
on a wonderful, cozy bed. 

The den was rather spaciously paved with small, fluffy cedar twigs and dry herbs 
producing a very pleasant aroma. When stretching myself out I touched some fluffy fur 
and noted to myself that Anastasia was, evidently, hunting somehow. I moved closer to 
the fur, pressed my back against its warmth and decided to doze for a bit longer. 

Anastasia was standing at the entrance and when she saw me awaken, told me right 
away,” Please, don't get scared”. Then she clapped her hands and the “fur” moved... 

Being terribly horrified I realized that it was not a fur. A wild bear started to crawl very 
cautiously out of the den. After receiving an encouraging pat from Anastasia the beast 
left. It turned out that she had put some sleeping herbs in the den and then made the bear 
lie by my side to keep me warm during the night. She, herself, was sleeping outside 
rolled up into a ball. 

“How could you do it to me? The he-bear could kill or press me down!” “It is not a "he", 
it is a she-bear. She could do nothing wrong to you”, answered Anastasia, “she is very 
obedient. The greatest fun for her is to get a job and fulfill it in the best way. She even did 
not move during the whole night long. She pressed her nose to my feet and stood still in a 
great bliss. She only startled a bit when you in your dreams were stretching your arms 
giving her slaps on the back”. 



Chapter 6 


ANASTASIA’S MORNING 


Anastasia goes to bed at one of her shelters as soon as it gets dark. More often she spends 
a night in her den. When it is warm she sleeps outside right on the grass. The first thing 
that she does on awakening is the rising sun salutation which is exceptionally joyous. 
Then she welcomes newly born sprouts and shoots which are appearing on the branches 
and coming out from the ground. She touches them with her hands, sometimes fixing 
something. Then she runs up to small trees and claps and taps on their trunks, producing a 
wonderful shower of pollen. These are mixed with early morning dew which falls on her 
from the shaking crowns of the trees. After that she lies down on grass and for about five 
minutes stretches and twists herself in the state of blissful happiness. All her skin gets 
covered with a kind of moistening cream. Then, having taken a ran, she jumps into a 
small lake where she splashes and dives. 

The problems of food or clothes don’t exist for her at all; most of the time she is naked or 
half-naked. She lives on cedar nuts, different kinds of herbs, berries and mushrooms. By 
the way, she eats only dry mushrooms. She never bothers herself harvesting mushrooms 
or nuts, or laying in store any kind of provision even for winter. The numerous squirrels 
living nearby take care of these problems. It is not extraordinary or unnatural that 
squirrels make their stocks for winter. It is instinctive behavior. I was astonished by the 
fact that the squirrels which happen to be around, on Anastasia's sign (snapping of her 
fingers), run right towards her and racing one another try to jump on her stretched out 
hand and give her a peeled kernel of nut. 

When Anastasia slaps her bent knee, the squirrels produce a peculiar sound, as if calling 
or informing their comrades. They start to bring and put before her dry mushrooms and 
other provisions. They are doing it with great joy. I thought that Anastasia was training 
them, but she told me that their behavior was instinctive. The mother squirrel by doing it 
was teaching her children: “Watch me, follow me, behave like me”. 

“Maybe, they were trained by some of my ancestors long, long ago, but to my mind, most 
likely, it is their predestination. Each squirrel usually lays in store several times more than 
it could use itself’. Anastasia commented on the behavior of her adorable providers. 

Answering my question, how she manages not to get frozen in winter without proper 
clothes, Anastasia asked me, “Don't you know any examples which demonstrate the 



ability of a human body to withstand cold without any clothes, in your world?” 


I recalled a book titled Detka (a child), by Porfiriy Ivanov, who wore only shorts and was 
always barefooted in all seasons. The book also relates that during the World War the 
fascists decided to test his great endurance by pouring water over him. The outside 
temperature was 20 degrees Celsius below zero and that after that they drove him in a 
motorcycle. No need to say that the man was absolutely naked... 

In her childhood Anastasia was fed not only on her mother's breast milk but also on the 
milk of different animals. They freely let her suck their milk. She does not make any 
ritual out of the meals procedure as she never sits down to eat. She merely picks a berry 
or a plant sprout without interrupting herself from her main occupation of whatever she is 
doing at that time. 

By the end of my stay there I could not help changing my attitude towards the woman, 
from what it was at the very beginning of our meeting. After everything I had seen and 
learned, Anastasia had turned into a different being but never a beast. Her intellect was 
extremely superb. Sometimes it seemed to me that it was beyond the understanding of an 
ordinary person. 

In contrast to many well recognized personalities with extraordinary abilities who 
surround themselves with a mysterious halo, assuming a secretive look, Anastasia tried to 
explain the mechanics of her abilities and proved that there was nothing mysterious or 
supernatural about it or her. She always affirmed that she was a human being, a woman. 
She constantly reminded me about that again and again, asking me to realize it. I did try 
to realize it, doing my best to find explanations for all those extraordinary phenomena. A 
human mind in our civilized world is working in one direction: using all possible and 
impossible ways to build one's mode of living, to provide oneself and one's family with 
food and to satisfy sexual instincts. Anastasia doesn't waste time bothering herself with 
all this stuff. The people who happen to get in a similar situation, as the Lykovs family 
(above mentioned), for example, have to watch constantly that their life supporting 
provisions, dwellings and what not are taken care of. Mother Nature doesn’t help them 
the way it does in Anastasia's case. All kinds of native tribes living apart of our civilized 
world, as far as I know, lack this kind of contact and harmony with Nature. Anastasia 
explains it as follows: 

Their thoughts and intentions are not pure enough. Nature and the animal world can feel 
it. 



Chapter 7 


ANASTASIA’S BEAM 


The most unusual and mysterious thing for me while staying at Anastasia's seemed to be 
her ability to see some people at a great distance and watch their lives. Maybe other 
hermits also have this kind of ability. She did it with the help of an invisible beam. She 
claims that everybody has it at their disposal but people don't know about its existence 
and they can't use it. 

She affirms that till now man has invented nothing | at all which doesn't exist in nature. 
The technique, S which makes television work, is just a poor similarity to the great 
potential of this beam. 

Just because the beam is invisible, I refused to believe in it, in spite of the fact that she 
was trying repeatedly to demonstrate how it worked. She tried hard to explain the 
principle of its operation and to find intelligible explanations. 

“Now, tell me, Vladimir, what is your definition of a waking dream? Are many people 
able to dream?” 

“I believe, many people can dream. A dream is when a man imagines himself in the 
desirable future”. 

“All right. So you don't deny that a man has an ability to model his future and different 
situations?” 

“No, I don’t”. 

“Well, what’s an intuition?” 

“Well, intuition... Probably, it's a feeling when a person is thinking without analyzing 
how and why something could happen, just goes with a flow. Some kind of feeling tells 
him the right way to act”. 

“So, you don't deny the existence of something inside a man which helps him besides 
common analytical reasoning to define his own as well as somebody else's actions?” 



“Supposedly I don't”. 


“Perfect,” exclaimed Anastasia, “now a dream! What are dreams, which almost all people 
have?” 

“Well, a dream is ... To tell the truth, I don’t know what it is. A dream is just a dream”. 

“All right, all right. Let it be "just a dream". Anyhow, you don't deny its existence. You 
and others know that when a person is sleeping, when his body is almost out of control of 
his consciousness, he can see people and different events?” 

“Well, nobody will deny it”. 

“Yet, in a dream people can communicate, talk, go through emotional experiences” 

“Yes, they can”. 

“Well, what do you think, can a man control his dreams, provoke desirable images and 
events which he/she would like to see?” 

“I don't think so. A dream comes somehow by itself’. 

“You are wrong. A man can control everything. A man has been created to control 
everything” 

“The beam I am talking about consists, precisely, of existing information, imagination, 
intuition, soul feelings and, as a result of it visions, just like a dream. 

These are consciously controlled by a man's will power”. 

“How is it possible to control a dream while you are sleeping?” 

“ Not only while sleeping. One can do it while being wide awake. You see, it is as if you 
are programming in advance and without failure. With people like you it occurs while 
sleeping and chaotically. Man has lost his ability to control it. That's why he decided that 
a dream is just an unnecessary product of a tired brain. In reality... Well, do you want me 
to try to help you to see anything at a distance right now?” 

“Well, sure I do”, I answered eagerly. 

“Lie down on the grass and relax, so your body would use less energy. It is necessary that 
you feel comfortable. Does anything disturb you? All right. Now think about a person 
you know well enough. Let's say, your wife. Recall her habits, her way of walking, her 
clothes, the place you think she could be right now and in general, try to imagine 
everything possible, using the power of your imaginations. 

I recalled my wife, bearing in mind that at that moment she could be at our country 



house. I visualized the house, some things and furniture. Then many things came to my 
mind in details but I could see nothing... I told Anastasia about it and she answered, 
“Because you can't relax completely. Try to relax as if you are falling asleep. All right. 
Don't worry. I'll help you. Close your eyes. Put your arms aside”. 

Then I felt the touch of other lingers on mine and I started to fall asleep or into a kind of 
drowsiness... 


...My wife was standing in the kitchen of our country house. She had a knitted jacket over 
her house coat. “It means that it is cool in the house”, I thought to myself, “again there 
are problems with the heater”. My wife was cooking coffee on the gas stove and 
something else was boiling in the dog’s pot. 

Her face looked sad and unhappy. Her movements were slack and slow. All of a sudden 
she raised her head and moving lightly and easily she went to the window. She looked 
through it at falling rain and smiled. The coffee on the stove came over the edges, she 
seized the coffee pot with the spilling coffee but she did not frown and was not irritated 
by it, as she usually would be in such a case. She took off her j jacket.. 

I was wide awake. 

“Well, did you see?”, asked Anastasia. 

“Yes, I did. But maybe it was a regular dream?” 

“Why "regular"? You had planned exactly to see her!” 

“Yes, I did, and I have seen. Where is the proof that she was exactly there, I mean at the 
kitchen at the very moment I was watching her?” 

“Will you memorize this day and time. When you come back, ask her. That's all. Didn't 
you notice anything else which looked unusual about her?” 

“Well, nothing else, I guess”. 

“Didn't you see her smile, when she came to the window and the fact that she was not 
irritated by the spilt coffee?” 

“Oh, yes. I did notice that but maybe she saw something good through the window and 
she liked it”. 

“She could see only rain. Rain, which she never enjoyed. Right?” 

“Then, why did she smile, according to you?” 



“Well, because I was looking at your wife with my beam and warmed her”. 

“So, it means that your beam had warmed her and what about mine? Was it cold?” 

“You were just watching her with interest, you did not put your feelings into your beam”. 
“Does it mean that your beam can warm a person at a distance?” 

“Exactly”. 

“What else?” 

“It can get and send information, try to improve a mood and partially heal some 
sicknesses. The beam can do many other different things, it depends on the available 
energy, power of feelings, will power and desire”. 

“Can you see the future and the past, Anastasia?” 

“Of course, I can! The future and the past, they are almost the same. The only difference 
is in outside details. The main thing always remains unchangeable” 

“How come? What can be "unchangeable"?” 

“For example, one thousand years ago the people were wearing different clothes. They 
were using different equipment in their everyday life. Also one thousand years ago the 
people had exactly the same feelings and emotions as now. Feelings are timeless: fear, 
joy, love... Yaroslav the Wise, Ivan the Terrible or a pharaoh could love a woman with the 
same feelings as you or anybody else today”. 

“Well, it's quite interesting but not completely comprehensible. What does it mean? You 
claim that everyone could have such a beam?” 

“Sure, Vladimir. Everyone. Even now people still have feelings and intuition, the ability 
to dream, assume, program and design certain situations, to watch dreams. They did not 
absolutely lose their abilities, only that these processes have become chaotic and 
uncontrolled” 

“Maybe it is necessary to train people somehow, to develop some kind of exercises?”, I 
asked. 

Anastasia's world outlook is very unusual and amazing: 

“What is God, Anastasia? Does He exist? If He does, then why has nobody ever seen 
Him?” 

“God is Interplanetary Mind or Intellect. He is not a single whole mass. One of His 
halves is out of the material world of the Universe. He is a complexity of all kinds of 



energies. His second half is spread all over the Earth in the form of small particles as well 
as in every human being”. 

“What do you think about the future of our society?” 

“In perspective the realization of all the destructive nature of the technocratic way of your 
development will come and you will start to move back towards the Origins, the Primary 
Source”. 

“Do you mean that all our scientists are undeveloped creatures who are leading us into a 
dead end?” 

“I would like to say that through them the process is being accelerated and, accordingly, 
the realization of the wrong way is coming true”. 

“Does it mean that all the machines and buildings we are creating are just in vain?”, “Yes, 
it is”. 

“Isn’t it boring for you to live here all by yourself without television and telephone?” 

“Such primitive things you have mentioned, Vladimir! All these things man had from the 
very beginning, only in a much more perfect way. I have it at my disposal too”. 

“Do you mean a television set and a telephone?” 

“Well, what is a television set? — It's an instrument with the help of which some 
information gets to the human atrophied imagination where the pictures and plots are 
being arranged. With the help of my imagination I can draw upon any plot or any picture, 
arrange the most unbelievable situations. Even more to that, I can also take part in them 
myself and even influence the plot on my own. Oh, sorry! I have expressed myself 
incomprehensibly, I suppose, haven't I?” 

“All right and what about the telephone?” 

“A man can communicate with anybody without a telephone. The only required things 
are: 


Willpower the wish of both parties and a developed imagination. 



Chapter 8 


CONCERT IN TAIGA 


I suggested her that she should to go to Moscow and present herself on television. 

“Just imagine, Anastasia, being such a beauty, you could become a cover girl, a world 
famous model”. I said. That was it! It was of exactly that point, when I realized that she 
was an earthly woman and, like any woman, she was happy to be a beauty. Anastasia 
started laughing. 

“The most beautiful, is it? Do you really mean it?” She asked me to repeat it and walked 
along the clearing as if she were a model putting one foot in front of the other while 
walking and demonstrating imaginary finery. I made an announcement, 

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, highly respected audience, you are going to see a second to 
none, a wonderful gymnast, the incomparable beauty A-n-a-s-t-a-s-i-y-a!” 

My announcement made her cheer up even more. She ran into the center of the clearing 
and produced an incredible somersault forward and then backward. Then to the left and 
to the right, then she jumped up very high, caught at a bough of a tree, swung herself for 
a couple of times and found herself in another tree. Then she repeated her acrobatic feat 
with somersaults, ran into the center of the clearing again and started bowing before the 
imaginary audience being accompanied by my loud cheers. Then she ran away from the 
stage clearing and having hidden herself behind the imaginary wings. She was peeping 
out smiling waiting impatiently for another announcement. 

Then the idea of my favorite collection of pop singers crossed my mind. Once in a while 
in the evenings being alone in my cabin I enjoyed watching video tapes with my favorite 
songs. One of those tapes came to me. So, without a shade of doubt, that she could do it, I 
announced, “Dear ladies and gentlemen, to much respected audience, now you are going 
to meet the best modern variety performers who will perform their best songs. Let's 
warmly welcome them!” 

Oh, how wrong I was to doubt her abilities! Later on ... it was absolutely something 
unbelievable and unpredictable!... Anastasia, on having hardly taken one step from 
behind the “wings”, started to sing. It was the voice of a famous modern singer Alla 
Pugachova. Don't take me wrong, she was not imitating Alla's voice. She was singing 
with such an ease reproducing not only the voice itself but its specific timbre. The 



manners, the way she was expressing her feelings and emotions were astonishing. It was 
great! 

Though the most exciting thing was something else. It was when Anastasia was 
accentuating some particular words and phrases, adding to the song some new meaning. 
Alla Pugachova's performance of this song, which had been recognized by the great 
majority of people as a perfect one, now, in Anastasia's interpretation, was turning to 
produce a whole scale of new emotions. She was giving more light to the images. For 
instance, in the perfect lines of the song: 

“Once there was an artist, 

He had a small house and canvases 

But he was in love with an actress, 

The one who loved flowers. 

And he sold his house, 

Sold his pictures and canvases 

And he spent all his money 

On a great sea of flowers-Millions, millions of scarlet roses...” she had accentuated the 
word “canvases”. She had screamed out this word, putting into it inexplicable emotions 
which were a mixture of astonishment and fright. Yes, canvases! Exactly! As they are the 
most precious things for an artist. Without them it is impossible to create. The artist gives 
away his most valuable treasure for his beloved's sake... Then, when Anastasia was 
pronouncing the following words: 

“... the train took her away” she expressed the artist's feelings, the pain of a man who was 
deeply in love. She also expressed his despair and confusion watching the departing train 
which was taking away his beloved forever. Oh, it was great! 

Being under the influence of everything I had seen, heard and experienced, I did not 
applaud when the song was over. Anastasia bowed, waited for a while for the 
appreciation of the “audience”. Then without any invitation and announcement, she 
started another song and this time she was trying even harder than before. She was 
performing all my favorites one after another, everything which was recorded for me in 
my order on my video tape. 

Each song, which I used to enjoy many times before, sounded in her reproduction 
brighter, containing much more meaning, provoking more emotions. 


The last song was over. Anastasia waited in vain for the cheering. So, she went away 
behind her “wings”. I was still in a state of a shock. I sat for a while, being under the 



influence of that extraordinary impression. Then I jumped up and started to applaud 
shouting out, “Great, Anastasia! Bravo! Encore! All the performers, welcome on the 
stage, please!” Anastasia came out cautiously and bowed slowly. I could not help yelling 
all the way, “Bravo! Encore!”, I was clapping and stamping with my feet. She also got 
excited, started clapping and asked, “ "Bravo", does it mean "more"?” 

“Yes, more! And more! And more!” 

Then I became quiet and started to take an all around view of Anastasia and a thought 
crossed my mind: how amazingly many sided her soul was, as she had managed to bring 
into the performance such amount of novelty, brightness and beauty! She was quietly 
looking at me inquiringly. Then I asked her, “Well, Anastasia, do you have a song of your 
own? Could you perform anything which belongs only to you?” 

“Yes, I could. But my song is wordless. Would you like it?” 

“Oh, please, Anastasia, will you sing your song?” 

“All right”. 

So, Anastasia started her unusual song. At first she screamed out as a newly born baby, 
then her voice became very soft, delicate and affectionate. She was standing under a tree, 
pressing her hands against her chest, her head being bent a bit as if she was rocking a 
baby to sleep, singing a lullaby song. She was caressing the baby with her voice and was 
telling something loving to it. Because of that soft, amazingly clear voice, everything 
stood still even the birds and the chirring in the grass. Then she became very happy 
watching her baby waking up. New sounds of exaltation appeared in her voice, 
unbelievably high sounds now were flying over the earth and then flushing up into the 
heights of eternity. Now Anastasia's voice was pleading to somebody, then it was fighting 
and then it was again caressing a baby, giving the gift of joy to everything around. 

The feeling of joy embraced me too and when the song was over I screamed joyously, 
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, my dear friends, you will watch a unique, inimitable 
performance of the world famous, the most skilful, brave and charming lady trainer who 
is capable of taming any beast. Welcome her, watch 

and be thrilled!” Anastasia even squealed in exaltation, jumped up clapping her hands 
rhythmically, gave a cry and whistled. Something unbelievable started happening in the 
clearing A she-wolf was the first to appear. It jumped out from behind the bushes and 
stood still by the edge of the clearing, looking around incomprehensibly. The squirrels 
were skimming up the trees jumping from branch to branch. Two eagles were flying very 
low in circles. Some kind of small wild animals were moving in the shrubs, then a sound 
of the snapping of dry twigs came to us. A huge bear was making its way through the 
bushes moving them apart and pressing them. It ran out on the clearing, came very close 
to Anastasia and stood as if rooted to the spot. The she wolf grumbled at the bear 
disapprovingly. Evidently, the bear had approached their lady too close without getting a 
special invitation. 



Anastasia ran towards the bear, patted its muzzle, gripped its front paws and made the 
bear stand on its back paws vertically. One could tell that while doing it she did not apply 
any efforts at all as the animal was fulfilling her commands willingly. This was done in 
accordance with its own interpretation and understanding of them. The beast was 
standing motionless, trying hard to understand what she wanted it to do. Anastasia took a 
run, jumped up high, gripped the bear by its paw and started bending herself backward. 
She was pulling the bear trying to show that she was going to throw the beast over 
herself. 

This kind of trick would be impossible if the bear did not do it willingly by itself and 
Anastasia was just directing its actions. Evidently, the bear was doing its best trying not 
to cause any harm to its mistress by supporting itself on its paws. The she- wolf was 
getting more and more restless so it could not help but rush from side to side growling 
and snarling. A couple of other wolves appeared in the clearing and Anastasia repeated 
the trick with the bear again and again throwing it over herself. She even tried to make 
the beast accomplish a somersault and the poor thing suddenly tumbled down on its side 
and stood still. 

Being overexcited and baring its teeth in anger, the she-wolf made a jump towards the 
bear. With the speed of lightning Anastasia blocked the wolfs way and the latter, slowing 
down with its four paws, made a somersault over its back and hurt itself against 
Anastasia's legs. Anastasia took a very quick grip on the wolfs mane making the beast 
press itself to the ground obediently. With the other hand she waved exactly the way she 
did in my case, when I had tried to give her a hug without her permission. 

The forest around us was murmuring excitedly but not threateningly. One could sense of 
excitement in the behavior of big and small wild animals. Some of them were jumping or 
running, some were becoming quiet. Anastasia started to reduce the agitation: first of all 
she flattered the she-wolf then patted its mane and sent the beast away from the clearing 
by giving it a smack as people usually do to a dog. The bear was still lying on its side in a 
very uncomfortable position. Evidently it was waiting for another “job”. Anastasia came 
to the bear, made it rise, stroked its muzzle and in the same way as she did with the she- 
wolf, sent it away from the clearing. 

Anastasia blushing sat down next to me, took a deep breath and slowly breathed out. I 
noted that her breathing normalized very quickly and became as smooth and regular as if 
she had never done all her incredible exercises. 

“They don't understand theatrical performance and they don't need to understand it 
becauseitnot very good for them”, remarked Anastasia and then asked, “Well, what about 
me? Can I get any place in your world? I mean, can I find a job”. 

“It was great! But all of these have already existed. The trainers in the circus show many 
interesting tricks with all kinds of animals, so you will not be able to force your way into 
such a job because of bureaucratic red tape. There are a great number of conventions and 
intrigues. You are not well versed to stand them”. 



We proceeded with our game trying all kinds of versions whereby Anastasia could find a 
job in our world and how she would overcome the existing formalities. Although we had 
failed to find an easy solution as Anastasia did not have papers to prove her education, an 
identification or the right of permanent residence. Nobody would believe her stories 
about her origin without a birth certificate. Her wonderful skills and abilities would not 
count much. 

Anastasia got more serious and said, “Of course I would like to visit, at least once again, 
one of your large cities, let's say Moscow, just to get more proof concerning the exactness 
of my modelling of some situations from people's lives. For example, I can't understand 
how the dark forces manage to fool women to such an extent that they, without even 
realizing it, are trying to attract men with the help of their physical charms. By doing so 
they don’t give the men an opportunity of making the right choice, the one which is right 
for the soul. Then they are both suffering because of this as they can't create a proper 
family”. Then she started her amazing reasoning about sex, family, bringing up children, 
and I thought to myself, “The most incredible of all that I've seen and heard was her 
ability to speak about our way of life, her precise and detailed knowledge of it”. 



Chapter 9 


WHO LIGHTS ANEW STAR 


The second night, being afraid that Anastasia would again put into my “bedroom” her 
favorite she-bear to keep me warm or some other foolish things and I refused 
categorically to go to bed. I told her that I would not do it if she did not lie down by my 
side. I had figured it out that if she was close to me, she would not play any tricks. 

“That's what you call having a guest staying at your home? I was sure that here there 
would be at least some construction. You don't even let me make a campfire and on top of 
this you are slipping in all kinds of beasts in on me! If you don't have a decent house you 
should not invite guests to stay there”. 

“All right, Vladimir, don’t worry, please and don't get scared. Nothing bad will happen to 
you. If you wish, I shall lie down near you and keep you warm”. 

This time there were even more cedar twigs scattered in the den dugout; the bunches of 
herbs were put very neatly. The walls were also decorated with twigs. I took off my 
clothes, put my pants and sweater under my head, lay down and covered myself with my 
jacket. The cedar twigs were producing the phytoncideous aroma about which popular 
science literature tells us how whereby it disinfects the surrounding air. Although in the 
taiga the air is clean, anyhow. I could breathe with ease. The dry herbs and flowers added 
some kind of extraordinarily delicate flavor. 

Anastasia kept her promise and lay down with me. Honestly, I could tell that the aroma 
which her body was producing exceeded all other scents. It was much more pleasant than 
the most delicate perfume which I had ever smelled while being close to a woman. 
However, it never came to my mind to take possession of her. After my attempt to hug 
her when we were on our way to her place of dwelling, after that fear which I had 
experienced and the losing of my consciousness, I did not imagine any kind of sexual or 
romantic feelings towards her. That was true even when I saw her absolutely naked. 

I was dreaming quietly about a son whom my wife had never given birth to: “It would be 
great if my son could be born from Anastasia! She is such a beauty. She is healthy and is 
capable of great endurance. That means that the baby would also be healthy and in my 
likeness. Of course, my son may look like her though he still should be much more like 
me. He would become a strong and smart personality. He would be happy, talented and 
intelligent” 



I imagined my baby son clinging to the nipples of her breast and involuntarily I put my 
hand on Anastasia's resilient breast. At that very moment a quiver ran all over my body 
and in a moment it was gone. Though it was not a fearful shivering, it was a different, 
extraordinary and pleasant one. I did not draw my hand back but only held my breath 
waiting for what would follow. The next moment I felt her soft palm on my hand. She did 
not push my hand away. I raised myself a bit and started looking at her gorgeous face. 

The white northern night was making it even more beautiful and attractive. I could not 
move my eyes away from her face. 

Her caressing gray bluish eyes were looking at me. I just could not help bending and 
touching slightly, quickly and carefully with my lips her half opened mouth. Again the 
same pleasant quiver occurred! My face was getting shrouded in the aroma of her breath. 
Her lips did not utter her regular: “Don't do it, calm down”. There were no fearful 
feelings. The thoughts about my son did not leave me. When Anastasia embraced me 
gently, caressed my hair and moved herself towards me, I felt something unbelievable!.. 

Only in the morning on awakening did I realize that never in my life had I experienced 
these kinds of feelings, — absolute bliss, exaltation and satisfaction. Then there was 
another thing which seemed very strange: usually a physical tiredness comes after a night 
with a woman. In this case everything was quite the opposite and, moreover, there was a 
feeling of a great accomplishment There was a feeling that something great had been 
created. The satisfaction was not just a physical one. There was something more to it, 
something still unrealized, unknown, never experienced before, extraordinarily wonderful 
and joyous! 

An idea flashed across my mind: “Just because of a moment like this one life is worth 
living”. I knew, I had never experienced anything like that, even close to it! However, I 
had met different women in my life who were beautiful, some of whom were rather 
experienced in love affairs and I had loved them. 

Anastasia was a virgin, a timid and tender girl. Still there was something in her that none, 
among those I knew, had possessed. 

“What? Where is she now?”, I wondered. I moved towards the trap door of the cozy den 
and sticking myself out. I looked around. The clearing was situated a little bit below my 
wonderful night dwelling place. It was covered with a layer of the morning fog. It was 
about two feet thick. In that fog having stretched her arms with her palms opened, 
Anastasia was spinning around. She was creating a small cloud of fog around herself. 
When it was wrapping all over her, Anastasia jumped up easily, stretching her legs into 
splits like a ballerina. She flew over the fog layer, landed in a new spot and started 
spinning again and while doing it she was laughing, rolling herself into another piece of 
cloud. The rising sun rays were making then-way trying to penetrate through the fog and 
comfort her. I tell you, it was something! It was charming and exciting and I yelled at the 
top of my voice being overwhelmed with emotions: 


“A-a-n-a-a-st-a-a-s-i-i-ya-a! Good morning, to the fairy 



of the forest! Anastasia-a-a!” 


“Good morning, Vladimir!”, She shouted back gaily. “It is so nice, so beautiful now! 

Why do I feel like this?”, I was shouting at the top of my voice putting in it all my power. 

Anastasia raised her arms greeting the rising sun, laughed with her happy, alluring 
laughter and shouted back to me and to somebody else above in a singing voice. 

“Only for a man the only one out of all living beings in the entire Universe it has been 
given to experience something like this! Only for a man and a woman, who had wished 
sincerely to have a baby together! Only a man who is experiencing this kind of feeling 
can light a new star in the sky! Only-y f-o-or a m-a -a-n striving towards creation! Thank 
you-u-u!” Then she turned to me and added addressing only me: “Only for a man, who is 
striving for a creation and not for satisfaction of his flesh needs”. 

She had an outburst of laughter again with her catchy laughter, jumping up, stretching 
herself into the splits, she started to hover over the fog. Then she ran up to me and took a 
seat next to me at the entrance of the den She started to comb her golden hair with her 
fingers. 

“So, you don't believe that sex is a kind of sin?”, I asked her. Anastasia was quiet for a 
while then looked at me with surprise and replied, “Do you think that it was the kind of 
sex they mean when using precisely this word in your world? If not, then what is more 
sinful: to give in and let a man come into this world or abstain from it and don't let a man 
be born into the material world? A real man?” 

Well, well, I went deep into thinking. Really, that night's intimacy with Anastasia was 
impossible to classify by a habitual word “sex”. What was it then? What is the proper 
word to use? I asked her again, “Why has nothing of the kind ever happened to me before 
and, I guess, to many other people?” 

“Well, you see, Vladimir, the dark forces are trying hard to develop in man vile, mean 
motives and lust of flesh just to prevent him from experiencing the divine grace, the gift 
of God. They are trying hard using all possible ways to make him/her believe, by 
suggesting the idea of effortlessly getting satisfaction, just thinking of satisfaction. By 
doing it they are leading a man away from the Truth. The poor, deceived women, who 
not even realizing it, for all their lives are getting only suffering, trying to find their lost 
grace and bliss. They are looking for it in the wrong direction. No woman will be able to 
keep a man from lechery if she gave herself up to him only to satisfy his carnal desires. If 
something like this happened, their joint life will never be a happy one. Their union, a 
poor illusion of togetherness, is a lie. It is a falsehood though widely recognized by 
conventional society. 

As for the woman herself, she turns into a loose one right away, no matter whether she is 
married to the man or not. Oh, humankind has invented so many kinds of laws and 
conventions trying to strengthen this false union by artificial reanimation: ecclesiastic and 



secular ones, but they don't help! They just make a man play, to get adjusted to them, 
trying to make a show of the existence of a union and create an imitation of a marriage. 
The inner intentions were always unchangeable and never depended on anybody or 
anything. Jesus Christ had realized it. Then he tried to emphasize it by saying that anyone 
who was looking at a woman with lust is already committing adultery with her in his 
heart. Then all of you, taken together recently tried to hold up to shame the one who had 
left a family... Although nothing in any kind of situation could stop man from searching 
intuitively for this grace, once experienced. He/she is looking persistently for this great 
satisfaction in spite of all kinds of obstacles. 

A false union is horrible because children are involved! Do you understand, Vladimir? 
Children! They feel artificiality, the mendacity of such a union. Children start to doubt 
everything their parents say to them. Children can sense a lie subconsciously when they 
are still in their conceptual stage. Because of it they feel bad things. 

Tell me, and who would not? What kind of a man would like to appear in this world as a 
result of carnal pleasures? Everyone would like to be created by a great impulse of love 
striving for a real creation. 

Those who joined a false union later on will seek a real satisfaction secretly, away from 
one another. They will be longing for possession of new bodies all the time or use only 
their own bodies ordinarily and they are doomed. Only intuitively being aware that the 
real grace of the real union is moving away from them farther and farther”. 

“Anastasia, wait a minute. Could it really be true that men and women are doomed to 
such an extent if they happened to have just regular sex at first? Is it possible that there 
would not be any way out, no opportunity left to correct the situation?” 

“Why, there is an opportunity. Now I know for sure what to do. Where and what kind of 
words should I find to express it, to put it into words? I am searching for such kinds of 
words all the time. I was looking for them in the past and in the future but I've failed to 
find them. Maybe they are quite near, somewhere here? They are about to appear, new 
words are ready to be born with the ability to reach the heart and mind. The new words to 
express the ancient truth of the Original Sources”. 

“Well, don't get frustrated, Anastasia. Try to tell me using those words which are 
available at least approximately. What else is necessary for real satisfaction besides two 
bodies?” 

“Awareness! Mutual striving for creation. Sincerity and purity of striving”. 

“Where do you get all this knowledge from, Anastasia?” 

“I am not the only one who knows it. The enlightened souls like Vales, Krishna, Rama, 
Shiva, Christ, Allah, Buddha were trying to explain to people the essence of all 
existence” 



“Now, what's that? Did you read about them? Where? When?” 


“I did not read about them. I just know what they have said, what they were thinking 
about and what was their mission, what they wanted to accomplish” “So, according to 
you, is it bad just to enjoy sex?” “Very bad! It leads a man away from the truth, destroys a 
family and a huge amount of energy goes nowhere”. “Then why do they publish such a 
great number of magazines with naked women in erotic poses and produce movies with 
sensuality and sex? They are a great success and in great demand. The demand gives rise 
to supply. What do you mean? Do you want to say that our humankind is absolutely 
wicked?” 

“Humankind is not wicked but the mechanism of the dark forces, eclipsing the 
spirituality provoking carnality, is very strong. It brings a lot of troubles and suffering to 
people. It works through women using their beauty, the destination of which is to awake 
and support the spirit of a poet, an artist and a creator in man. Because of this very 
purpose a woman herself should be pure. If there is no purity of feeling, then an attempt 
of attracting a man with the help other sexual charms comes forward. The purpose of it is 
just to get a man with the outside beauty of an empty vessel. By doing this she tricks a 
man. It is inevitable that she is going to suffer for this trickery all her life”. 

“How come? Couldn't mankind manage to overcome this "mechanism" of dark forces 
through the millennia of its existence? It has failed to overcome this in spite of all the 
calls of "the enlightened souls"? Does it mean that it is just impossible to overcome 
them? Maybe, there just is no need to do it?” 

“It is possible and necessary by all means!” 

“Then how could it be done?” 

“Women again! Those who have managed to realize the truth and their predestination will 
get changed and eventually men will change too”. 

“No way, Anastasia, I doubt it. A normal man will always be excited by a beautiful 
woman's legs and breasts... Especially when on a business trip or on vacation he happens 
to be far away from his woman. That is the way. It just happens. Nobody can change 
anything in this case. So it's one way traffic”. 

“But I have already done it for you”. 

“What have you done?” “From now on you will not be able to be involved with 
pernicious sex”. A horrifying thought struck me like lightning and started to reverse the 
wonderful feeling which was born inside me the previous night. “What have you done to 
me, Anastasia? Tell me! What? I am now... What am I now... Impotent?”, I uttered. 

“On the contrary, you have become a real man now. Just regular sex will be repulsive to 
you. It will not bring you the feeling you have experienced that night as this kind of 
feeling could be possible only in the case of a desire to have a baby. The woman should 



have the same desire too. She should really love to desire a baby from you”. 


“Love me? Well, under such conditions... During a life time it could happen only a couple 
of times. That's it...”. 

“It is quite sufficient to be happy within your entire life, trust me. You will realize it”. 

Anastasia stretched her arms towards me and tried to move closer. I jumped quickly away 
from her into the den's comer and shouted out, “Stay away from the exit, please. I ask 
you nicely!”, She stood up. I crawled out and backed up from her a couple of steps. 

“You have deprived me maybe of the main pleasure in my life. Everybody is longing for 
it, everybody is thinking of it, even if they don't speak aloud about it”. 

“It is just an illusion, Vladimir, all these so-called pleasures you are talking about. I've 
helped you to get rid of a terrible, pernicious, sinful attraction 

“Whether it is illusion or not, who knows? Anyhow, it is a pleasure universally 
acknowledged. Don't you dare make me rid of it just because you take it as a "pernicious" 
inclination. Otherwise when I get out of here, I will forget about any relationship with a 
woman. No drinking! Having a nice snack! No smoking! Thank you! The great majority 
of people in everyday life are absolutely unaccustomed to these conditions” 

“Well, what is good in hard drinking, smoking, senseless and pernicious digesting of a 
great amount of animal meat since there has been plenty of vegetation created especially 
for man to live on?” 

“Now look here, why don't you live on your "vegetation" if you like it and leave me 
alone. For many of us it's a pleasure to smoke, to drink liquor, to enjoy a nice meal. It is 
recognized and accepted by everybody. Do you understand it? Accepted! This is the 
bottom line! That's it!” 

“Look, Vladimir, everything you've mentioned is bad and pernicious”. 

“"Bad"? "Pernicious"? All right! What if my invited guests come to my house to 
celebrate some special occasion. They sit down at the table and I would tell them, "My 
dear friends, will you help yourselves to some nuts, have a bite of an apple, enjoy a glass 
of water and no smoking." Then it will be really bad!” 

“When you invite your friends and as soon as they come, is it the most important thing to 
do right away to invite them to sit down at the table and start drinking, eating and 
smoking?” 

“It does not really matter whether it is the most important or not. It is just universally 
acknowledged all over the world, by all people. In some countries there is even a special 
traditional dish like a roast turkey for a certain holiday or occasions 



“It is not recognized by everybody in your world”. “Well, maybe not by everybody but as 
for me, I am live among normal people”. 


“Why do you believe that your surroundings consist of the most normal people?” “Just 
because they are the majority”. “It is not a weighty reasoning”. “It is not a "weighty" one 
for you because it is impossible trying to explain anything to you”. My anger towards 
Anastasia was vanishing. I recalled everything I had heard about new medical remedies. I 
remembered about doctors sexopathologists and a comforting thought came to my mind: 

“If she has done something which somehow caused me any damage, the doctors would 
be able to help correct my problem”. So, I said, “All right, Anastasia, let's make a 
bargain, I am not angry any more. Thank you very much for the wonderful night! Only in 
future you had better not try to get rid of my habits and addictions. As far as sex is 
concerned, I'll fix it with the help of our doctors and modern medicine. All right? Now 
let's go bathing”. 

I walked to the lake, enjoying the morning forest. 

A good mood was returning to me again and as for her... It's unbelievable! Can you 
imagine?! — She followed me and said all of a sudden. “Medicine and doctors will not 
help you. To change you back, the -a- way it was before, first of all they would need to 
erase from your memory file everything that had happened and the memory of 
experienced feelings”. Being shocked by this news I stopped and screamed at the top of 
my voice, “What? Then why don’t you undo it?” 

“Sorry, I can't undo it either”. 

And again the feeling of blind fury overwhelmed me. “You... You are an insolent woman! 
You are interfering in and messing my life! Here you are! You are ready to make dirty 
tricks but correct them by deleting them, "I can't! Isn't it something?!” 

“But I haven't done any dirty trick. Didn't you want to have a son of yours so much? 
Although many years have passed by and here you are, you still don't have a son. There is 
no woman in your life who could give birth to your long awaited son. A desire to have a 
child from you also a son, has come to me too. Even more to it, I can... Then why do you 
think beforehand that you will not be well? How do you know? Maybe you will realize it 
sooner or later... Don't be afraid of me, please, Vladimir. I am not interfering into your 
psyche. It happened all by itself. You have got what you had wished for. Your wish has 
come into the material. If there is one thing which I would like to help you with very 
much, it is to get rid of, at least, one mortal sin”. 

“Now again! What kind of sin, I wonder?” 

“Pride”. 

“Well, I tell you! You are a strange woman! Your philosophy and way of life are 
inhuman”. 



“What do you see in me which is not human, that scares you?” 


“First of all, you are living in this forest all by yourself, communicating with plants and 
animals. There is nobody in our world whose life can come even close to yours”. 

“How come, Vladimir, why...”, Anastasia started to speak excitedly, What about 
dachniksl? They also communicate with plants and animals but yet they do it 
unconsciously, without being aware of it. Later on they will realize it. The process of 
realization has already started with many of them”. 

“Well, and here we go! She is already a dachnitsa, and this beam of yours... You don't 
read books but you know a lot. It is a kind of mysticism”. 

“Just a minute, I'll explain to you everything but take your time, not all of a sudden. It 
takes time, you know. I am trying hard but I can't find the proper words, the 
understandable ones. Please, trust me. Everything I do is quite absolutely human in 
distinctive features. It was given to humans long, long ago. It is their primordial bond. It 
is in our primordial source files. Everybody can do it. Well, anyhow, sooner or later 
people inevitably will return to it again. The process will slowly take place when the 
Light Forces overcomes 


“What about your concert? You were singing with different voices, imitating my favorite 
singers and, moreover, it was done in exactly the same consecutive order that is recorded 
in my video tape”. 

“It just happened, Vladimir. Once I saw the tape, listened to the songs. I'll tell you later 
on how it happened. All right?” 

“And what do you mean, did you memorize right away the words and the melodies of all 
those songs?” 

“Yes, I did. What is complicated about it or mystic? Oh, what have I said and showed 
you! You got scared of me, didn't you? I guess, evidently, I am a muddle-headed 
chatterbox. I don't know how to restrain myself. Once my grandpa called me this name. I 
thought that he had done it just because of his love for me. Now I believe that I am really 
a muddle-head. Please... Vladimir...”. 

Anastasia was talking excitedly and evidently it was the reason why my fear of her was 
almost gone. The thoughts of my son filled up all my feelings. 

“Well, I am all right, I am not afraid any more-Only, please, do restrain yourself a little 
bit. You see, even your grandpa has told you about it”. 

“Yes, he has. My great-grandpa... and I am talking on and on... You know, I can't help it 
because there is so much to say and I want to say it all! Am I a chatterbox? Yes, sure I 



am. I'll try to do my best. I'll try to say only the things which are understandable” 


“So, you mean that you will give birth, Anastasia?” 

“Of course! Only it will not be in prime time”. 

“What do you mean by saying "not in prime time" ?”“ You see, it is necessary to do it in 
summer, it is an indispensable condition, when nature helps to bring a baby up”. 

“Then why did you make the decision if it is so risky for you and the baby?” 

“Don't worry, anyhow, the son will live”. 

“And you?” “And me too. I'll try to stay till spring comes and then everything will come 
its way”. 

She said that without a shade of sadness or fear for her own life. Anastasia took a run and 
jumped into the water of the small lake. A shaft of sprays sparkling in the sun raised like 
fireworks and descended on the clean and smooth surface of the lake. In about thirty 
seconds her body slowly started coming up to the surface. She was lying on the water 
with her arms wide apart and smiling. I was standing on the bank watching her and 
thinking: “Will the squirrel hear the snaps of her fingers when she is lying together with 
her baby in other shelters? Will any of her four-footed friends help her? Will there be 
enough warmth in her body to give to the baby?” 

“If my body is getting cold and the baby needs food, it will cry”, said Anastasia in a low 
voice on coming out of the water. Its dissatisfied cry will wake up the pre-spring nature 
or at least a part of it and then everything will be fine. They will bring the baby up”. 

“Did you read my mind?” “No, I just assumed that you were thinking about it. It is quite 
natural”. 

“Anastasia, you have told me that your relatives live near by. Could they help you?” 
“They are pretty much occupied and they could not be bothered”. 

“What is it that they are so occupied with? What are you doing all day long if practically 
the whole surrounding nature is serving you?” 

“Well, I am occupied with... And I am also trying to help the people of your world, those 
whom they call "dachniks" or gardeners”. 



Chapter 10 


HER FAVORITE DACHNIKS 


Dacha: a small piece of land about 0.04-0.12 hectares (sometimes bigger) with a 
hut or a summer house surrounded by a kitchen garden, flower beds and fruit 
trees; it is usually outside of a city; people go there for weekends or vacations. 

Some people have luxurious residences with a big property but Anastasia does 
not mean them. A dachnik is the owner of a dacha. (Comment by the translator). 

She told me a lot very excitedly about the possibilities which could be opened for people 
who communicate with plants. In general Anastasia usually speaks on two subjects with 
special excitement and even some feeling of love. These are children and dachniks. If I 
tell you everything she says about dachniks and what kind of meaning she puts into them 
then everybody would kneel before each dachnik. Can you believe it? She thinks that 
they have saved everybody from disaster and starvation. They are sowing Good in our 
souls, and they are bringing up our future society... I tell you, it's almost impossible to 
enumerate all the credits she gives them. It would be necessary to write a special book on 
this subject. Moreover, she proves all in her argument. 

“You know today the society you live in can comprehend a lot through communication 
with plants which they grow at their dachas. Only at the dachas, where you know every 
plant of your small plot but not in the depersonalized vast fields, where machines are 
crawling like stupid monsters. The people who work at dachas feel much better and to 
many of them this is the way to prolong their life and be healed from many sicknesses. 
They become more kind. It is the dachniks who are capable of stimulating society's 
awareness of the fatal consequences of the technocratic ways of our developments 

“Well, Anastasia, whether you are right or wrong, it does not really matter right now. 
What do you have to do with all these things? What are you helping with?” 

She gripped me by my hand pulling me down on the grass. We were lying on our backs 
with arms aside each other and palms up. 

“Close your eyes, relax and try to imagine everything I am going to speak about. Now I'll 
find with my little beam and watch from a distance somebody from the people whom you 
call "dachniks". 

She was silent for a while, then she started to speak in a low voice: “An elderly woman is 
unrolling a cheesecloth in which she was soaking cucumber seeds. The seeds have 



already sprouted a lot, one can see tiny sprouts. She took one seed in her hand. Well, right 
now I've prompted her that it is not good to soak seeds this way as the sprouts are 
becoming deformed while planting. This kind of water is not good enough for nourishing 
a seed and it will get sick. She believes that she has guessed about it on her own, just by 
herself. Though, to some extent she is right, as I've tried only a little bit to help her to 
understand, to reach awareness. Now she will share her new idea with other people. Well, 
that's it. A small business has been done”. 

Anastasia told me that usually she was modelling in her consciousness all kinds of 
situations concerning people's labor, rest and relationship with each other as well as with 
plants. When the situation she modelled was the closest to reality, the contact had been 
installed whereby she could see a person, feel his/ her sickness and sense their feelings. 

It looks as if she gets into someone's consciousness and shares her knowledge with the 
person. Anastasia said that plants respond to man, they can love him/ her or hate and 
influence his/ her health positively or negatively. 

“In this field I've a lot of work to do. I am busy handling the dachniks' plots. The 
dachniks go to their plots, to their plantations as if they are visiting their children but 
unfortunately their attitudes are only intuitive now. They are not supported by the purity 
of awareness of the real purpose of this interconnection. Absolutely everything on Earth, 
every herb, every insect has been created for man. They have their special tasks and 
predestination to be at man's service. The great variety of medicinal herbs are the best 
proof of it. Although a man of your world knows very few in order to use the given 
opportunity to the fullest 

extent”. 

I asked Anastasia to show the usefulness of realized communication by certain examples 
and, moreover, the way that it could be possible to verify, to see and test it scientifically. 
Anastasia became thoughtful for a while and then she beamed with joy and exclaimed, 
“Dachniks! But of course! My favorite dachniks! They will prove and show everything 
and make your science puzzled. How did it not come to me before? Why couldn't I 
understand, I wonder?” 

Any newly bom idea provoked a stormy joy in her. Generally speaking, I've never seen 
Anastasia sad. She can be serious, thoughtful, concentrated but most of the time she is 
joyous. This time she was expressing a stormy joy. She jumped up, then started clapping 
and it looked to me as if it became much brighter in the forest and the forest started 
moving. It responded to her by the rustling of the tree tops and a very special chattering 
of birds. She was spinning as if in a dance and then, shining and illuminated all over. 

Then she took her seat next to me again and said, “Now they will believe. Here they are, 
my dear dachniks. They will explain the world; she still seemed to be an unreal being, 
though she was sitting next to me and I could reach and touch her easily. My 
consciousness, having been used to operate with different criteria of evaluation?” rejected 
taking her as the one who is existing in reality. Although, at the beginning of our meeting 
I was attracted to her but later on I did not experience former emotions towards her. I 



asked, “So, it means you think that the new feelings which appeared in you were 
occasional 

“They are longed for”, answered Anastasia, “they are even pleasant but in return, I would 
like you to love me the same way I do. Though I have realized that on learning about me 
and about my world better, you would not be able to perceive me as a regular person. 
Maybe you could even get scared of me sometimes... You know, actually it has happened 
that way. It is all my fault. I have made a lot of mistakes. I don't know why but all the 
time I got nervous. I was rushing, trying to explain and failed to do it. Everything looks 
foolish, doesn't it? I need to correct myself’. 

While saying those words she was smiling with a shade of sorrow. She pressed her hand 
against her breast and I recalled right away something that had happened one morning 
while I stayed at Anastasia s. 



Chapter 11 


DOCTOR SEED 


Anastasia stated: 

“Every seed planted by someone contains within itself a great amount of cosmic 
information. Its volume is incomparable to anything manmade. Thanks to this 
information the seed knows exactly, up to milliseconds, the time when it is supposed to 
return to life. It knows when to sprout, what kinds of juices to extract from the ground, 
how to use the energy generated by cosmic bodies like the sun, moon and stars. It also 
knows what specific type of plant to become and what kind of fruit to bear. The various 
fruits are meant for man's life-support. These fruits can fight and resist any disease of a 
human physical body very effectively and even more powerfully than the best manmade 
medications existing now and those which will be in the nearest future. In order to fulfill 
this job a seed has to know everything it could saturate the fruit with and bring them into 
proper correlation with the necessary substances for the healing process. It has to know 
precisely for a certain person concerning his specific sicknesses in case they have them or 
there is a pre-disposition towards sickness. 

To load this kind of information into a cucumber, tomato or any other kind of seed which 
is supposed to grow in a certain piece of land it is necessary to act as follows: 


Before planting or sowing a dry seed (don't soak it) it should be taken into the mouth and 
kept not less than nine minutes. Then take it in your hands (in-between your palms), hold 
it for thirty seconds. While doing it one should stand barefooted on the very plot where 
the seed is supposed to be planted. After that open your palms, bring your hands close to 
your mouth, exhale the air out of your lungs right on the seed (or seeds). After that keep it 
in the open air in the sun for thirty seconds. Now the seed is ready to be planted, so put it 
into the ground. Never water it right away after planting! You can water it only three days 
after planting. 

Of course don’t forget about the proper time for planting or sowing. The day should be 
chosen in accordance with the well known moon calendar. Every gardener knows that 
there are especially preferable days for each kind of crop. It is advisable to plant early 
without watering when the ground has enough moisture in it. A late planting could be 
fatal for the seed. Don't destroy around this plant all the weeds when it is developing and 
growing. It is necessary to leave at least one kind of each weed. You can cut the weeds 



without pulling them out so you will not disturb the roots of your plant”. 


According to Anastasia, this is the only way for a seed to accumulate, file and process the 
infor-mation about a person. In the process of bringing up its fruit the plant will be 
getting the most out of the required energy from the Cosmos and the Earth specially for 
that person. You can't remove all the weeds around the plant because they are playing 
their special role as well. Some of them are protecting the plants from sicknesses. Others 
are supplying them with additional information. While the plant is growing it is necessary 
to communicate with it and at least once, approach it when the moon is full and touch it. 
Anastasia confirmed that the fruits, which had been grown that way from a seed and 
consumed by the person taking care of it, are capable of healing him/her absolutely from 
any kind of disease. It decreases to a great extent, the process of ageing, gets rid of 
pernicious habits and addictions, greatly increasing mental abilities and bringing peace to 
the soul. This kind of fruit will give the most beneficial effect if consumed within three 
days after harvesting, not later. All the procedure described above can be done with any 
kind of crop which you grow on your plot. There is no need to sow or plant the whole bed 
of cucumbers or tomatoes this way. It is quite sufficient to have only a couple of plants 
for healing purposes. 

Before you plant a sapling it is necessary to crumple the soil in the hole with your fingers 
and the toes of your bare feet and after that spit into it. 

On answering my question, “Why with toes?” Anastasia explained that toxic substances 
are coming out of a human body through the feet sweating. These are containing the 
information about an organism which had been sick. The young plant would get this 
information and process it to the fruit, which would be able to fight the sickness. 
Anastasia strongly recommended walking on the plot bare footed at least once in a while. 

“What kind of crop is it preferable to grow?”, I asked. “It is quite sufficient to grow the 
variety which the great majority of the gardeners do: raspberry, black currant, gooseberry 
canes, cucumbers, tomatoes, strawberries and any kind of apple tree. It is advisable to 
have a cherry or sour cherry tree and flowers. The quantity of the crops or the area they 
occupy does not really matter. 

There are compulsory crops without which it is hard to imagine a complete energetic 
microclimate at a plot. They are: sunflower (at least one), cereals should occupy an area 
of about 1.5-2 square meters, then rye and wheat. It is absolutely necessary to leave a 
space not less than 2 square meters for various grasses. This island of motley grass should 
be only natural. It should not be artificially sown and if you, for some reason have failed 
to preserve a piece of earth with motley grass in your plot, then it is necessary to bring 
some turf from a forest. This way you would be able to create a kind of a tiny wild, 
nature 

island”. 

I asked Anastasia whether it was necessary to plant the compulsory crops if your next- 
door neighbor had already had those crops at his/ her plot. If right behind your fence 



there was a motley grass island or even a whole field of it and her answer was, “It is 
important not only to create a variety of plantings but it is very important the way they 
were planted and direct communication with them is advisable. Because through it a 
saturation of information is taking place. I've already told you about one way of planting 
and it is the main one. The most important thing to do is to saturate the surrounding piece 
of nature with information about oneself. 

Only in that case the healing effect and the life support of your physical body would be 
much higher than just fruit growing. In "wild nature", as you call it, though it is not 
"wild" at all, it is just strange and unknown to you. There are a great many plants which 
are able to heal all kinds of existing diseases. They exist only for this purpose! Man has 
lost or almost forfeited the ability to recognize and determine them”. 

I directed her attention to the fact that we had many specialized pharmacies which are 
dealing with medicinal herbs. There were doctors, quack-doctors or even witch — 
doctors who were healing with herbs, but... 

“There is only one main doctor and it is your own organism!”, replied Anastasia. “From 
the very beginning it has been given to man to know exactly what kind of herb to use and 
when. Anyone was able to do it subconsciously. Nobody else can substitute you as your 
private doctor. This ability has been given to you by God. I am telling you the way to 
bring it back. A well organized interrelationship with the plants' organic complex at your 
plot will heal you. It will take great care of you. The plants will diagnose your condition 
very precisely on their own and produce the most effective remedy specially destined for 
you”. 



Chapter 12 


WHO IS BEING STUNG BY BEES 


“At each plot it is necessary to have one bee family”, said Anastasia. I was trying to tell 
her that only a few people managed to communicate with bees. Some people joined 
special schools to learn how to take care of bees and even they did not always manage to 
handle that matter properly. 

“A lot of that which you are doing for a bee family's life sustenance only leads you away 
from success. Within the last thousand years only two men on Earth have managed to get 
closer to understanding and realizing this unique life mechanism”, she replied. 

“Who were they?”, “They were two monks and they have been canonized. Anyone can 
read. 

“They were two monks and they have been canonized. Anyone can read about them in 
the books which are being preserved in the monastic depositories” 

“Well, all right, and what is the right way to maintain 

bees at a plot?” 

“It is simply necessary to make a nest for them, exactly the same one they have in natural 
conditions. That's it! Then the only job is to take a part of their honey, beeswax and other 
substances produced by them”. 

“But they can sting people, can't they? What kind of peace would there be if man is going 
to be in a constant state of fear?” 

“Bees sting only when man abuses them and behaves aggressively, waving hands, and, in 
general, if a person is full of aggressive feelings and it is not necessarily towards bees but 
just for anybody. They feel or, rather, they don't accept radiation of any dark feelings. 
Those of anger, irritation, frustration, etc. are not accepted. Also they can bite at those 
parts of the body where there are endings which are connected and lead towards the 
internal organs. They dislike any kind of disharmony, as well as those areas where the 
protective coat is broken. Also if there is some kind of disorder. It is well known how 
effectively bees can heal the illness which they call radiculitis but it is still far from being 
the only thing they are capable of doing. 



If I start telling you about everything and, moreover, try to prove it the way you want me 
to, then you would have to stay here not for three days but for many weeks. 

A lot has been said about bees in your world, I've just tried to make some corrections 
concerning their maintenance and believe me, please, they are quite substantial. It is very 
easy to put a bee family into a beehive. It is just necessary to pour out a swarm of bees 
into it. I've forgotten to say that before, one should put a piece of beeswax and 
melliferous herb into the beehive. All kinds of home made frames and honeycombs are 
not required. Later on, when bee families appear at neighboring plots, bees will start 
swarming by themselves and after they have swarmed they will occupy vacant blocks”. 

“How would you take honey from them?” “Just open the bottom cover, fracture the 
hanging combs and withdraw some of the packed honey and pollen. Only man should not 
be greedy as it is necessary to leave a certain portion of honey for the bees to survive the 
winter”. 



Chapter 13 


HELLO. MORNTNG! 


Anastasia tried to adapt to the conditions of a dacha plot with her own morning procedure 
and it has come out as follows: 

“In the morning, preferably at sunrise, one should go out to the plot bare footed, come to 
the plants of one's own choice, at random. You may touch them and there is no need to 
follow any stereotyped patterns or strictly repeat a certain ritual day after day. Just follow 
your own gut feeling. One should do it before washing oneself. So, don't touch water. 

This is very important as the plants are able to sense the smell of the substances which 
are being excreted from a body while man is sleeping. They are coming to the surface 
through the skin pores. If it is warm and there is a small space covered with grass (it is 
very important to have such), you should lie down and enjoy stretching yourself for three 
or four minutes... 

If any insects crawl over your body don't push them off. Many insects can do a wonderful 
job of unplugging the pores of the human body and cleaning them. As a rule, those pores 
are getting plugged through with toxins. They are coming out bringing to the skin surface 
all kinds of internal sicknesses and in this way giving man an opportunity to wash them 
off. 

If there is any pool at the plot it is necessary to dip into it. If it is not available you can 
just pour a bucket of fresh water over yourself. While doing it one should be bare footed 
standing near the beds of plants. It is even better to stand in between the beds or, for 
example, one morning you can stand near a raspberry cane and next time it could be a 
blackberry bush and so on. After the bath in the open air you should not wipe yourself 
with a towel right away. Wait! It is necessary to shake off the drops of water from your 
palms on the nearby plants. The drops of water from the rest of your body should be 
shaken off with your hands exactly the same way. Only after that can you proceed with 
your regular morning procedures which you are used to”. 



Chapter 14 


EVENING PROCEDURE 


“In the evening, before you go to bed, it is absolutely necessary to wash your feet. Add to 
the water some drops of goose-foot or stinging nettle juice. Though you can use both of 
them but no soap or shampoo should be present. As for the water in which you have 
washed your feet, pour it out on the beds of your plot. After that, if it is necessary, you 
may wash your feet with soap. This kind of evening procedure is very important for two 
reasons. First of all, as it has been mentioned above, through your feet sweating, the 
toxins are getting out bringing all kinds of internal diseases. That's why it is absolutely 
necessary to wash them off, to cleanse the pores. The juice of goose-foot and stinging- 
nettle helps and stimulates the process. By pouring the water on the beds of your plot you 
are providing the micro-organisms of the environment and plants with additional 
information about your state of health now. Even more than that, which is also very 
important, the visible and invisible surrounding world can manufacture everything 
required for your organism to function properly. It will select these from the Cosmos and 
the Earth”. 



Chapter 15 


TT WTLL PREPARE 
EVERYTHING BY ITSELF 


I was very interested in one thing, “What would she say about nutrition”, I wondered. 

She herself was eating rather peculiarly. I asked her, “Anastasia, tell me, please, what do 
you think about man’s nutrition? What should one eat. When, how often and in what 
quantities should he eat? Lately, everybody is very fascinated about this subject. All kinds 
of literature have been written advertising different formulas of medical nutrition and 
giving recommendations on weight loss”. 

“Well, it is difficult even to imagine that the life of man in the technocratic world could 
be different. This world has been given to man from the very beginning but the dark 
forces have been always trying to change this healthy, natural mechanism into their very 
complicated, bulky, artificial systems which are contradicting human nature”. 

I asked Anastasia to be more specific and speak more understanding^ avoiding her 
philosophical fabrications and she proceeded: 

“You see, nothing but your own organism itself is able to give you a better answer to your 
questions: 

"what, when and how much food is man supposed to eat?" The senses of hunger and 
thirst have been given to man by nature exactly for this purpose. These signal to each 
human being, in particular, what is the right time for him / her to have food. This exact 
moment is the most favorable for him/her. The technocratic world can't provide a man 
with an opportunity to satisfy his/ her sense of hunger and thirst at the very moment when 
the organism requires it. That was the reason why man started to push his/her own 
organism into the pattern which has been conditioned by his own helplessness. Moreover, 
trying to justify it by a certain advisability is what man needs. 

Just imagine, somebody is sitting idly, almost sleeping and of course he is saving his 
energy. Another one is working hard physically or simply running, sweating, losing, 
dozens of times more energy and they must have their meal at the same time. 

Well, man must eat at that time when the physical body tells him/her to do it and the 
second advisor does not exist. I understand that in the conditions of your existence it is 
almost impossible to accomplish all my suggestions but for those who have their dacha 



plots such a possibility does exist! Why not use this wonderful opportunity, putting aside 
all those unnatural, artificial directives! 


I am going to tell you exactly the same thing while answering your question, "what is 
necessary to eat"? Anything, at hand at the very moment you feel hunger. Your organism 
will choose by itself what is necessary for it. I can give you some untraditional advice: 

If you have a pet in your house (a cat or a dog) try to watch it carefully as you can learn 
something from it. From time to time the animals choose a certain kind of herb from a 
great multitude and eat it. It is advisable to take at least a couple of them and add them to 
your meal. Not necessarily everyday. It is quite sufficient to do it once or twice a week. It 
is also necessary to harvest grains of cereals, thrash them, mill, make flour and bake 
bread. It is extremely important! A person who eats such bread only once or twice a year 
gets the reserve of energy which is capable of activating not only one's inner forces but 
also influencing the internal state of health. It also effects mood and bring peace to the 
mind and soul. You can give this bread to your relatives or close friends. It will also 
influence them beneficially. It is very useful for man's good health, at least once, in 
summer time to eat only the fruit and vegetation from your plot. Although you can add to 
it bread, sunflower oil and a minimum quantity of salt”. 

I have already mentioned how Anastasia eats. While speaking, for example, on the 
subject of nourishment she, just by the way, picked up a blade of grass then another one, 
started chewing and gave me one. I decided to try it. It's taste was not impressive though 
it was not disgusting either. The process of nourishment and life sustenance of Anastasia's 
organism makes the impression that it just relies upon nature. It never prevents her from 
her thoughts or actions and her mind is always preoccupied by different kinds of 
problems, that's for sure. 

As a matter of fact, her health is an inseparable part of her extraordinary external beauty. 
According to Anastasia, the human organism, since it has established such a relationship 
with the vegetable kingdom and the Earth, has an opportunity to get rid of all kinds of 
sicknesses. This shows up right away. 

Disease itself occurs because Man is moving away from the natural mechanisms which 
have been designed to watch his/ her health and life-sustenance. It is no problem at all for 
these mechanisms to fight any disease just because it is namely the essence of their 
existence. The benefits which man can enjoy once he creates informational contact with a 
small space of Mother Nature is much greater than just a help in the struggle against 
diseases. 



Chapter 16 


SLEEPING UNDER YOUR STAR 


I have already mentioned the way Anastasia becomes inspired when she speaks about 
plants and people who are communicating with them. I thought that she, living in a 
natural environment, had studied perfectly only nature. However she also acquired 
information about planetary structure. It looks as if she has a feeling for it. Dear readers, 
it is up to you to judge the idea of sleeping in the open air under the starry sky and the 
way she speaks about it. 

The plants, having received the information about a certain person, enter the information 
exchange with cosmic forces, but they are only intermediaries. They are fulfdling strictly 
specialized tasks. These are pertaining to the flesh only and never touch complicated 
processes which are only characteristic of man's brain out of all the animal and vegetable 
kingdoms on the planet. Once being established, the information exchange allows a man 
to do something which he alone is empowered to do. That is to get in touch with Cosmic 
Intellect and, to be more precise, to exchange their information. A very simple procedure 
makes it possible to do and experience the solitary effect of such an influence. Anastasia 
sets it forth as follows: 

“On one summer night when the weather is nice, arrange your lodging for the night 
outdoors, right under the starry sky. It is recommended to make up your bed not far from 
raspberry or black currant canes or a space with cereals. You must be alone. Lie down on 
your back facing the stars and keep your eyes open. Just gaze for a while mentally along 
with the cosmic bodies. Relax, don’t strain yourself while thinking about them. The 
thoughts should be light, free and peaceful. Get into a silent gap. 

First of all, try to think about those celestial objects which are easily visible. Then you 
may dream for a while of something which is for you the innermost: 

About your loved ones and those to whom you wish all the best. Don't ever try to think 
about any kind of vengeance or bear somebody ill will at that very moment. Otherwise 
the effect could be unpredictable, a very unfavorable one for you. This simple procedure 
will bring back to life some cells of the great multitudes of sleeping ones in your brain. 
The great majority of which never wake up during man's life time. 

Cosmic forces will join and help you to accomplish the most inconceivable light dreams, 
to find peace of mind, regulate favorable relationships with loved ones and your dearest. 



It will increase or call forth their love towards you. It is very wholesome to carry out this 
procedure several times. Though it will be effective only at the places of your constant 
contact with Mother Nature. You will feel the effect the very next morning. It is 
especially important to do such kinds of procedures every time on your birthday eve. It 
would take a lot of time to explain how the whole mechanism works and, to be 
completely honest, there is no use in doing that right now. First of all, you will not 
believe a certain part of my explanations and, secondly, some of them you will not simply 
be able to understand. It could be much easier with no time to speak about this subject to 
those who had tried and experienced this influence by themselves. The information they 
could get would favor the perception of subsequent experiences. 



Chapter 1 7 


YOUR CHILD'S HELPER AND 
EDUCATOR 


I inquired into how a piece of land with plantings, if it were planted in a special way, 
being in contact with man could benefit the education of children. I expected to hear from 
Anastasia something like: “It is necessary to cultivate in children a love for nature and so 
on...”. Although I'd been mistaken. I was shocked by the simplicity of her argument as 
well as the depth of her philosophical sense. 

“Nature and the universal mind created us such that each newly bom man comes into the 
world as a master, a king. He is just like an angel in his purity and innocence. The top of 
the head, being still open, is receiving a huge flow of universal information and the 
abilities of each newly born allow him to become the wisest being in the Universe, 
created in God's likeness. The baby needs a very short period of time to present its 
parents with a gift of happiness and bliss. This is the time within which it realizes the 
essence of the Universe, the reason for man's existence. This happens within only nine 
years of earthly life. Everything he needs already exists”, says Anastasia. 

“The only thing the parents should do, is not to distort the natural cosmic creation, but the 
techno-cratic world does not allow this. What does a baby see with its first intelligent 
look? — It can see only a ceiling, an edge of its cradle, some rags, walls and other 
treasures of an artificial world created by modern technology. In this world its mother and 
her breasts exist. "Evidently, this is the way it should be," the baby thinks. 

The smiling parents are presenting the baby with clanging and squeaking things. The toys 
are presented in such a way as if they are the greatest treasures in this world. Why? What 
for?... The baby will be clanging and peeping with them for a long time trying to realize 
everything with its subconscious. 

Then again the same smiling parents will swaddle it with rags and it feels terribly 
uncomfortable. The baby will try to get rid of these; fighting for its freedom but 
everything is just in vain! The only way to resist is to cry! Here comes the cry of protest 
and indignation, asking for help. From that very moment an angel and master turns into a 
beggar, a slave begging for charity. 

They present the child with all kinds of attributes of the artificial world without a break, 
one after another. Every new toy, new clothes is given as a proper thing, almost like a 



blessing. They are lisping the baby and in that way involuntarily treat the baby man as an 
imperfect being and even at those establishments which are meant, as everybody 
believes, to be for educational purposes, the children are being taught the merits of the 
same artificial world. 

And only by the age of nine do they tell him/ her, just by the way, about the existence of 
Nature as an appendix for something else, something very important and again bearing in 
mind the same handmade stuff. 

The great majority of people are not able to realize the Truth to the end of their lifetime. 
One would think of the question as being a rather simple one: "What is the meaning of 
life?" Still, this dilemma has never been solved. The whole point is: in Truth, Joy and 
Love. A nine year old child, having been educated by the natural world, has more 
opportunities for realizing the Cosmic Creation than the best educational establishments 
can provide in your world”. 

“Stop, Anastasia! Evidently you mean "the knowledge of nature" bearing in mind that a 
child's life would pass by just like yours? Sorry, I can't take it. I believe that a modem 
man has to live one's life right there where he is, in our technocratic world, as you call it. 
Whether it is good or bad there is no way out and this is the bottom line. One will know 
and feel nature but as far as other things are concerned, he is going to be an absolute 
profanity. There are such kinds of sciences as mathematics, physics, chemistry and it is 
absolutely necessary to know life with its social phenomena”. 

“Everything you've mentioned are just trifles for the one who has once got to know the 
essence of Cosmic Creation. If one shows interest for something and manifests oneself in 
a certain field of science then it will be easy for him to surpass other people”. 

“Just like that?” 

“A man of the technocratic world has not till now invented anything that does not exist in 
Mother Nature”. 

“Fine! Let everything be as it is. Remember, you have promised to explain how a child 
could be educated in our conditions, how to develop his skills and abilities. While 
speaking on this subject, please express yourself clearly and try to give specific 
examples, will you?” 

“I'll try to do my best”, answered Anastasia, ’’I've already modelled such kind of situations 
and tried to prompt one family with what exactly was necessary to do. They had a 
problem in realizing the key moment and asking their child the right questions. The 
parents go with their three year old child to their dacha and they carry with them his 
favorite toys to keep him busy. They should not do it. The child could be involved and 
preoccupied with something more interesting instead of the senseless and even harmful 
communication with handmade items. 


First of all you can ask him to help you. Only you should do it for real, without kidding 



and lisping and, believe me, he will really help. If you are going to sow ask him to hold 
the seeds or rake aside the ground on the bed or put a seed into a hole. While doing it try 
to comment on your actions explaining to him what you are doing. For example, you may 
do it this way: "We are going to put the seed into the hole and then cover it with earth. 
When the sun shines and warms the ground the seed will get warm and start growing, it 
will wish to see the sun and a green sprout will come out, just like this one," and at that 
moment you should show him any new sprout. "If the tiny sprout likes, it will become 
bigger and bigger and eventually it can grow into a tree, just 

like that or a smaller one. I would like it to bring us a tasty fruit and if you like it you will 
enjoy eating it". 

Any time when you come to your plot with your child or, in case you are staying there, in 
the morning when he wakes up, the first thing you should do is suggest that the child 
check up whether a new sprout has come out. When you see a newly born sprout express 
a real joy, get happy. When you are planting tomato seedlings let your child fetch you 
stems one by one. If by chance he breaks any of them, take the broken one and say: "I 
think, this one is not going to live, it will not bring us any fruit, it is broken, but, 
nevertheless, let's try and we’ll see. Then plant at least one broken sprout together with 
the healthy ones. 

In a couple of days when you come to the tomato bed again, he will see the healthy stems 
which had become stronger and the broken one which is fading. Remind the child that it 
had been broken while planting. Mind, please, at that moment you should not speak to 
the child in a didactic tone of voice. Speak and treat him as your equal. You should 
realize on the level of your consciousness that in a certain way he is superior to you. For 
instance, he is superior in purity of thoughts. A child is an angel and if you manage to 
comprehend this then later on you would be able to act intuitively. No doubt, he will be 
the very person who will bring you happiness. 

When you are going to sleep under a starry sky, take your child with you, put him by your 
side, let him see the starry sky. Don't try to tell him the names of the planets or to explain 
their origin and destination the way you understand it Because in reality you don't know 
it yourself. 

The dogma which exists in your mind will only mislead him away from the truth. His 
subconscious mind knows the truth and it will get into the child's consciousness 
automatically, by itself. The only thing you can do is just to tell him that you like to 
watch the shining stars and ask your child which of the stars he likes best of all. In 
general it is very important to know how to ask a child questions. 

The following year you should suggest to your child to take care of a small piece of your 
plot, let him do whatever he likes. You can help, but before you do, ask the child's 
permission to work together with him. When you sow cereals let him sow seeds too”. 


“All right”, I said, “really this way a child will develop an interest in the vegetable 
kingdom and he could become a good agronomist. How would he gain knowledge in 



other fields?” 


“Well, what do you mean by saying "where from"? The point is not only what he will 
know and feel about how everything is growing. The bottom line is he will start to think, 
analyze and in his brain the cells will wake up which are going to work during his total 
life time. These cells will make the child smarter, more talented than those people whose 
cells are still sleeping. 

As far as your existence is concerned (that which you call "progress"), your child could 
become second to none in any field of knowledge and his purity of thoughts, being 
greater than those others have, will make him more happy as well. The adjustment with 
his planets will give him the possibility not only to receive new information, permanently 
again and again but to exchange it also. His subconscious will receive all of these and 
pass it to the consciousness as new thoughts and discoveries. Outwardly he will be a 
regular man but inwardly.. You would call such people "geniuses"“. 



Chapter 18 


FOREST GYMNASIA 


“Please, tell me, Anastasia, was your upbringing exactly the way you are describing 
everything now?” 

She answered only after a short pause evidently trying to recall her childhood. 

“You know, to tell the truth, I almost completely don't remember my daddy and mummy. 

I was brought up by my grandfather and great-grandfather approximately the way I’ve 
just described to you. "The point is that somehow I was feeling nature and the animal 
world surrounding me very well. Maybe I was not realizing all its mechanisms up to the 
end but it is not important when one feels it. Granddaddy and great-granddaddy used to 
visit me from time to time and asked questions and asked me to answer them. It is a rule 
with us that the elders treat babies and little children as a divine being and through a 
child's answers they are checking their own purity”. 

I asked Anastasia to recollect any specific question she was asked and the answers she 
gave to it. She smiled and told me this story: 

“Once I was playing with a snake, the next moment I turned around and saw them 
standing watching me and smiling. I was very happy to see them because it 
was usually fun to spend time with them. Only they could ask me questions and, 
moreover, their hearts were beating at the same rhythm as mine and the animals' 
heartbeats were absolutely different. I ran up to them, great-granddaddy bowed to me and 
granddaddy took me on his lap. I was listening to the beating of his heart and while doing 
it I was running my lingers over of his beard examining it. We were silent for a while. 
Everyone was thinking to himself and I felt so good. Then my granddaddy asked me a 
question: 

“"Now, tell me, Anastasia, why does my hair grow here?" He pointed to his head and 
beard. "But why don't they grow here?", pointing to his forehead and nose. 

I touched his forehead, then his nose but no answer came to my mind. I could not speak 
hastily. It was necessary for me to comprehend the subject by myself. When they came 
the next time granddad started again: 

"Well, you see, the same problem is bothering me. I am still thinking about it. Why do I 
have hair growing right here and not here?" Then again he pointed to his forehead and 



nose. 


My granddaddy was looking at me very intently and seriously. Then I thought, that 
evidently it was really the most serious problem for him and asked him in return: 

"Well, granddaddy, do you really want so much hair to grow all over you including your 
forehead and nose?" 

My great- granddaddy became very thoughtful and granddaddy answered: 

"No, I don't want it to". 

"There you are, that's why they don't grow, because you just don't want them to". Then he 
asked thoughtfully stroking his beard as if he was asking himself: 

"All right, do you think that right here they grow just because I like it?" Then I confirmed 
saying: 

"Of course, grandpa, you and me and the one who has invented you". At that very 
moment great grandpa became very excited and asked: 

"Can you tell me who? Who has invented him?" 

"The one who has thought of everything", I answered. 

"All right, and where is he, can you show him to me?", asked my grandpa bowing before 
me. 


I could not answer right away at that moment but the question stayed inside me and I 
started thinking about it since that time”. 

“Did you find the answer later?”, I asked her. 

“I answered it in about a year and then received new questions. You see, they did not ask 
me a new question before I gave them the answer to the previous one. Believe me, I was 
having a very hard time as it was bothering me”. 



Chapter 19 


ATTENTION TO MAN 


I asked Anastasia who had taught her to speak if she almost could not remember her 
mother and father. Her grandfather and great-grandfather visited her very seldom. I was 
astonished by the answers I got and I believe that only qualified people should try to find 
the meaning and essence in them. That's why I'll try my best to reproduce the issue the 
best way I can. As for me, the essence of it started to clarify only later on. Instead of 
answering my question she asked me in return: 

“Do you mean the ability to speak the languages of different peoples?” 

“What does it mean "different"? You can speak different languages, can't you?” 

“Yes, I can”, answered Anastasia. 

“Can you speak German, French, English, Japanese, Chinese?” 

“Yes, I can”, repeated she and added, “Don't you see I am speaking your language?” 

“Do you mean Russian?” 

“Well, it is generalized greatly. I am speaking, at least, trying to speak, using the words 
and word combinations which you are using in your speech. It was a little bit difficult for 
me at the beginning as your vocabulary is poor and you repeat very often the same speech 
patterns. Your senses are also feebly expressed. It is rather difficult for me to express 
precisely enough everything I would like in using this kind of languages 

“Wait a minute, Anastasia, now I am going to ask you something in a foreign language 
and you will answer me if you can”. So, I said “How do you do” in English then in 
French. She responded immediately. To my great regret I don't know foreign languages. I 
was taught German at school and I had only a satisfactory mark. A whole German phrase 
came to my mind which we had to leam by heart and I reproduced it for Anastasia. She 
stretched her hand and replied in German: 

“I am giving my hand to you”. I was so surprised that I could not believe my ears and I 
asked her: 


“So, what of that? Do you mean that any man could be taught all kinds of languages?” 



Intuitively I felt that there was a very simple explanation to this extraordinary 
phenomenon and I just had to realize it and to bring it to people of our world. 

“Go ahead, Anastasia, tell me in my language and, please, try to bring understandable 
examples”, I asked her getting a little bit excited. 

“All right, all right only you should calm down. Relax or otherwise you will fail to 
comprehend. Let me teach you first of all how to write”. 

“I can write. You would better tell me about teaching foreign languages, will you?” 

“It is not just how to write. I'll teach you how to become a writer, a talented one. You will 
write a book”. 

“Oh, no, it's impossible”. 

“Quite possible, it's so simple”. 

Anastasia took a stick and drew on the ground all the letters of the Russian alphabet 
together with punctuation marks and asked me how many letters 

there were. 

“Thirty three”, I answered. 

“Well, you see, there are quite a few letters. Can you call my drawing a book?” 

“No”, I answered, “it is a regular ABC, that's it. 

Just regular letters”. 

“But all books in Russian consist of these letters”, noted Anastasia. Do you agree with 
this? Do you understand how simple everything is?” 

“Yes, but in the books they are placed in different ways”. 

“That's right, all books consist of multitudes of these letters' combinations. Man puts 
them in order automatically being guided by his feelings. It means that, first of all, not 
just combinations of letters are being born but feelings, being depicted by his 
imagination. The one, who is going to read it will experience approximately the same 
feelings and they will stay in memory files for a long time. Can you recall any image or 
situation from the books you have read?” 

“Well, I hope I can”, I answered after pondering for a while. A Hero of Our Time, by M. 
Lermontov came to my mind somehow and I started to describe it to Anastasia. 


She interrupted me saying: 



“Well, you see, you can describe the characters of this book, speak about their feelings 
though it was long ago since you had read it. If I ask you to tell me 

the order of the 33 letters of which the combinations were arranged, could you reproduce 
them for me?” “No, I can't. It is impossible” 

“It is really very difficult to do. So, it means that the feelings of one person have been 
transmitted to another with the help of all kinds of combinations of these thirty three 
letters. You were looking at those combinations and forgetting them right away but the 
feelings and images have remained and been memorized in your long-term memory... 

So, it turns out that if a soul's feelings are connected directly with these symbols without 
thinking about all kinds of conditional characters, the soul will arrange the symbols by 
changing their combinations. It does this sequence and later on the reader would be able 
to feel the soul of the writers 

“Wait a minute, Anastasia, please, speak simply, more understandably. Will you specify 
and give me any example of a method of teaching foreign languages. You will try to 
make a writer of me later on, all right. Go ahead, tell me who and how they were teaching 
you to understand different languages?” 

“My granddad”, replied Anastasia. 

“Can you give me an example”, I asked trying my best to realize and comprehend 
everything as soon as possible. 

“All right, but you should not worry, somehow I'll find the way to make you understand 
and if it is so important for you I'll also try to teach you all languages. It's so simple”. 

“"Simple" for you but for us, it's unbelievable, Anastasia, that's why, please try to explain. 
By the way, will you tell me how long it will take for you to teach me a foreign 
language?” 

For a while she was looking at me thoughtfully and then said: “Your memory has already 
become poor, all kinds of everyday problems have weakened it It will take more time 
with you”. 

“How much?”, I was impatient as I was anxious to get the answer. 

“Well, for everyday essentials, the phrases like: 

"How do you do", "Hello", "Goodbye" and so on I think it will take not less than four or, 
maybe, even six months”, answered Anastasia. 


“Only? Now, Anastasia, go ahead, tell me how todo it”. 



“He played with me”. 

“How did he play? Tell me”. 

“You just calm down and relax. Honestly, I can't, for the life of me, understand why you 
are agitated so much?” She continued quietly: “My great-grandpa used to play with me as 
if he was making fun. When he came to visit me alone without granddaddy, he used to 
approach me making a deep bow. He would stretch his hand and I stretched mine. He 
would shake my hand then stand on one knee, kiss it and say: "How do you do, 
Anastasia". Once he came, performed his regular ritual and, as usual, his eyes were 
looking at me tenderly but his lips were speaking a kind of abracadabra. I was looking at 
him with surprise. He started to speak something different and again there was absolutely 
no sense in his speech at all. I could not stand it any longer so I asked him: "What's the 
matter with you, did you forget what is necessary to say?" My great- grandpa answered: 
"Yes, I did." Then he moved away for a couple of steps then came to me again, stretched 
his hand, I did exactly the same. He kneeled before me on one knee and kissed my hand. 
His look was very tender and sweet. His lips were moving but he did not utter a word, 
nothing at all! I tell you, I even got scared and tried to help him: 

"How do you do, Anastasia". 

"That's right", affirmed my great-grandpa smiling and I realized that it was just a game. 
We were playing previously something like that. At the beginning it was easy but later the 
game started to get more complicated though it was becoming more interesting to play. 
This game starts at the age of three and is over by the age of eleven. That is the time for a 
kind of examination. The essence of it is that while watching attentively one should 
understand him without words and it doesn't matter what language one is speaking, trying 
to express oneself. 

Such kind of dialogue is more perfect than a vocal one and moreover the speed is higher. 
You call this phenomenon "transmission of thoughts at a distance," considering it almost 
unreal. This belongs to the realm of fantasy but this is just an attentive attitude towards a 
person, highly developed imagination and good memory. Behind it stands simply a more 
perfect means of information exchange. 

Although it is much more a cognition of a human soul, the vegetable kingdom and animal 
world and, generally speaking, the whole Cosmic Creation”. 

“Come on, Anastasia! What does it have to do with a plant growing in a plot?” 

“Well, what do you mean by "what does it have to do?" Simultaneously a child is getting 
to know the vegetable kingdom as a particle of the Universal mechanism. With their help 
it gets into contact with the parents, and then with the help of the parents the child gets to 
know the truth fast, very fast. At the same time the child is developing intensively in the 
field of psychology, philosophy and the natural sciences. All kinds of sciences of your 
world have been developed. While this kind of game is being carried out, any kind of 
handmade object of the artificial world, even as an example, should not be used. It will 



mess a child up and no help from the forces of nature or the cosmos could be given to 
him”. 


“I've already told you before, Anastasia, that after all, this child can become an 
agronomist, and where is he going to get knowledge in other fields of the sciences?” 
Anastasia started to confirm that if a person had been educated exactly that way he 
would acquire the abilities for quick knowledge in any sphere of our sciences. 



Chapter 20 


A FLYING SAUCER? NOTHING 

SPECIAL 


When I asked Anastasia to demonstrate her knowledge in the field of engineering she 
asked: 

“What do you want me to do? Shall I tell you how all kinds of mechanisms work in your 
world?” 

“Will you tell me about something involving what our greatest scientists are only getting 
some hints at or just approaching. Well, lets say on which they are trying to make some 
kind of discovery”. 

“That is exactly the thing I am doing for you all the time”. 

“Please, don't try to do it for me. Do it for our scientific world, so that they would be able 
to recognize this discovery. Do it in the field of engineering, outer space flights, atomic 
study, machine fuel or rocket propellant since you keep saying that "everything is very 
simple"“. 

“These fields you've mentioned in comparison with those ones I am trying to explain to 
you, well, how to be more precise, they could be compared to those in a stone age or 
something like that”. 

“Fine! In your opinion, they are very primitive but on the other hand, at least it would be 
understandable. You will be able to prove your righteousness and confirm that your 
intellect is superior to mine. Tell me, for instance, what do you think: our air and space 
crafts are perfect mechanisms or not?” 

“They are extremely primitive and, moreover, they are a confirmation of the primitivism 
of the technocratic way of developments 

I tell you, such kind of answer pricked up my ears because I realized that she knew for 
sure immeasurably more than I could possibly imagine by my ordinary consciousness. 
Although, I was persistent: 



“What exactly is so primitive about our rockets and aircrafts?”, Anastasia replied after 
making a short pause, as if she was trying to give me an opportunity to realize what she 
had said before: 

“The motion of your mechanisms, absolutely all of them, is based on explosive energy. 
Just because you don’t know more perfect natural sources of energy, you are using this 
primitive and bulky one with unbelievable obstinacy. Even the consequences of its usage 
can't stop you. Your aircrafts and rockets have absolutely ridiculous ranges of flight. They 
manage to rise over the earth only a little bit on a universal scale, meanwhile, this 
method, perhaps, has already reached it's absolute limit. This is ridiculous! Just think, an 
explosive or burning substance is pushing some bulky construction, the one which you 
call a "spacecraft". The largest part of this spacecraft is preoccupied only with the 
problem of pushing it”. 

“Could other principles of moving in space exist?” 

“Sure, for example the one which a flying saucer possesses,” she answered. 

“What! ! ! Do you know about flying saucers and the principle of their motion?” 

“Of course I do. It is a very simple and rational one”. I tell you, even my throat became 
dry, I started pressing her for an answer, “Go ahead, Anastasia, tell me everything quickly 
and clearly”. 

“All right but you should not worry, while being excited it is difficult for you to perceive 
anything. The principle of a flying saucer motion is based on the energy of vacuum 
generation” 

“What? Please, speak more plainly”. “Sorry, Vladimir, your vocabulary is poor but in 
order to make myself clear I have to use it”. 

“Just a minute, I'll add to it”. Being very excited I started to burst out the words: “ajar, a 
cover, a tablet, air...” trying to name quickly all the words which were coming to my 
mind at that moment and even harsh words came out of my lips. 

Anastasia interrupted me by saying, “Stop it. Ifs enough. I don't need it. I know all the 
words with which you can express yourself, but the bottom line is that there are other 
words. In general, a different form of information transmission exists. By using it I can 
explain everything within a minute. Otherwise it would take me two hours to do it. It is 
too much for you. So, I would rather speak about something else, which I believe is even 
more significant” 

“Oh, no way, Anastasia, speak about flying a saucer, the principle of its motion and 
energy supply sources. I am not going to listen to anything else till I grasp it”. 


“All right”, she proceeded. “An explosion is a state when a hard substance turns very fast 
into a gaseous state under some kind of influence or during some 



kind of reaction. It occurs when two denser substances are changing into lighter ones. “Is 
it clear to you?”, she asked? 

“Yes, it is”, I replied, “Gun powder, if you set it on fire, will turn into smoke and gasoline 
changes into gas”. 

“Yes, something like that. If you or anybody else of your world would have pure 
aspirations and intentions and based on the knowledge of natural mechanisms then you 
would have realized long ago that if such kind of substance, which is capable to expand 
greatly within a moment, does exist. It explodes turning into another state, so then a 
reverse process should also exist! It's inevitable. In Nature these are live micro-organisms 
which are changing gaseous substances into hard ones. Generally speaking, all plants are 
doing it only at a different speed, degree of hardness, density and solidarity. 

Just look around, everything is drinking the earth juice, breathing the air and then 
creating from it a hard and solid body. Let's take wood or, even a more solid and hard 
thing, a nut or a plum pit. Invisible to the regular eye a micro-organism is doing it at an 
extremely great speed and it looks as if it is being fed only by air. 

These very micro-organisms are the motion power of a flying saucer. They look like brain 
micro cells. Only functionally, they are narrowly directed. Their only function is a motive 
one. They perform it to the peak of perfection. They are under the outside layer of a 
flying saucer's cover and occupy the space in between its double walls. The space 
between the walls is approximately three centimeters. The upper and bottom surfaces of 
the outer walls are porous, with micro holes. Through these holes the microorganisms 
absorb air and in this way they create a vacuum around a saucer. 

The tiny air jets become solid before they get in touch with a saucer's surface. As soon as 
they go through these micro-organisms they turn into tiny balls. Then these balls start to 
grow, getting enlarged and reach approximately 0.5 centimeter in diameter. After that 
they get softer and roll from the space they had occupied in-between the walls down into 
the bottom part of a saucer and there they get changed again into gaseous substances. One 
can eat them before they get decay”. 

“What are these bacteria eating up in the vacuum?” 

“In the Universe an absolute vacuum doesn't exist”. 

“What are a flying saucer's walls made of?” 

“They are grown”. 

“How come?”, I asked suspiciously. 


“Why are you getting astonished at it instead of thinking more carefully. Many people 
grow a special kind of mushroom keeping them in different vessels. You know, the one 



which gives the water a special sour taste. This mushroom takes the shape of the vessel. 
By the way, this mushroom looks very much like a flying saucer and it also creates 
double walls. If they put into its water one microorganism more, the process of hardening 
will take place. This, socalled, micro-organism could be produced or, to be more precise, 
it should be conceived mentally. It is using man's will power and a kind of very vivid and 
bright imaginations 

“Can you do it?” 

“Yes, I can, but my efforts alone are not sufficient. The joint effort of dozens of persons 
are required. Those who have the same abilities. It would be necessary to work at the 
project for about a year”. 

“Is there everything necessary on our Earth to create or grow, as you say. this flying 
saucer including these micro-organisms?” 

“Sure, on the Earth there is everything that exists in the Universe”. 

“How could these micro-organisms be placed inside a saucer if they are so tiny and 
invisible?” 

“When the outside wall is being grown it attracts and accumulates them by itself and in 
large quantities, just like a beehive attracts bees. Though for this very purpose the efforts 
of scores of people are also required. Well, there is no sense in continuing this issue, 
especially to go into details, since you will not be able to grow it, because now no people 
exist with the proper will power, intellect and knowledge 

“And what about you, can't you help somehow?” 

“I can”. 

“So, do it”. 

“I've done it already”. 

“What have you done, Anastasia?”, I asked as I did not understand her answer. 

“Well, I've told you already about the proper way of children's upbringing. I'll tell you 
even more later on. You will tell people about it. Many of them will realize it and their 
children, while being raised and educated this very way will possess the required 
intellect, knowledge and will power. Which would provide them with the ability and 
opportunity to create not only a primitive flying saucer but much more...”. 

“Anastasia, how do you know everything about a flying saucer?” 


“They landed here and, well, I was in a certain way helping them to repair it”. 



“Are they much smarter than we are?” “Not at all, they are immeasurably far away from 
man, they are afraid of him. They are keeping their distance, though they are very 
inquisitive. At the beginning they were afraid of me. They were trying to send paralyzing 
thoughts. All of them were trying hard making this effort. They were trying to frighten 
and surprise me. I did my best to calm them down and comfort them”. 

“Well, what do you mean by "not smarter" if they can do the things which man is not yet 
able to?” 

“What makes you so surprised? Bees are also constructing unbelievable things by using 
natural materials. They build ventilation and heating systems but it does not mean that 
their intellect is superior and stronger than man’s in the whole Universe. Just God's is!” 



Chapter 21 


THE BRAIN - SUPER COMPUTER 


The possibility of creating a flying saucer awoke an interest in me. If one takes into 
consideration only the principle of movement as a hypothesis, still it is a new one. 

Though a flying saucer is a very complicated mechanism, for us terrestrial people, it is 
not a matter of top priority. 

That was why I decided that I would rather hear from Anastasia about something that I 
could understand right away. That “something” should not require any kind of scientific 
research or investigations. It could be applied in practice as being very helpful and 
beneficial for all people. I asked Anastasia to solve some kind of problem which our 
society is facing right now as a matter of top necessity. She agreed but asked, “Can you 
specify somehow? I mean this problem. How can I solve a problem if I don't even know 
what exactly you want?” 

So I tried to think of the most urgent problem of today and the following terms of the task 
came to my mind, “You know, Anastasia, in our large cities one of the most urgent 
problem of today is environmental pollution. It's difficult to breathe the air there”. “But 
you are polluting it yourselves”. “Of course, we do. Please, listen to what I am going to 
say. Let me finish. Only don't start your 

philosophical talk trying to debate the subject as you always do, by saying: "you should 
take good care of yourselves, don't pollute, plant more trees and so on and so forth". Just 
accept everything as it is now and think of something. 

For instance, something which could purify the air in large cities, let's say, by fifty 
percent and moreover it would not need any expense from the state treasury. The thing 
which you are going to invent should be the most visible of all kinds of variants which 
anyone could think of and it would be applicable, understandable for me and everybody”. 

“I'll try”, answered Anastasia. “Are you sure you have mentioned all the conditions?” 

Trying to make the task more complicated, I had some kind of gut feeling that her mind 
and abilities could be more powerful and advanced than our conscious mind could 
possibly assume. That was why I added, “Let the innovation you are going to think of be 
profitable” 



“For whom?”, she asked. 


“For me and my country as well. Since you live on a territory which belongs to Russia, 
let it be beneficial for all Russia”. 

“Does it mean money?” 

“Yes, it does”. 

“How much?” 

“You know, Anastasia, as far as profits and money are concerned, it is never enough. I 
need just enough to cover my expenses for this expedition and another one and also for 
Russia...”. 

I became thoughtful... What if I would try somehow 

to arouse in her some kind of interest in the material wealth of our civilization? So, I 
asked, “What about you? Do you want anything for yourself?” 

“I've got everything I need”, she responded. All of a sudden a great idea came to me, I've 
realized what could arouse interest in her. 

“You know, let the thing you are going to think of bring enough money so all your 
favorite dachniks, well, I mean gardeners, all over Russia can get seeds free of charge or 
on preferential terms, at reduced prices”. 

“Sounds nice!”, exclaimed Anastasia. “What a wonderful idea! I'll start processing it right 
now if you have nothing else to add. I just love it! Are you sure you have nothing else to 
add?” 

“Yes, I am sure, Anastasia. That's it for the presents I could tell that she was excited by 
the task itself and especially the idea of helping the dachniks by providing them seeds for 
free. 

Although at that very moment I was absolutely sure in spite of her extraordinary ability 
that the problem of air purification was an insoluble one. Otherwise our numerous 
scientific establishments would have solved it by now. 

This time Anastasia lay down on the grass rather vigorously. Usually she did it very 
quietly, spreading her arms wide apart. The pads of her slightly curved fingers were 
upwards. Sometimes she was moving them, then they were absolutely still, the eye lashes 
of her closed eyes quivered once in awhile. She stayed in that position for about twenty 
minutes, then she opened her eyes, sat down and announced: 

“I have determined it. But I tell you, what a nightmare it is!” 



“What have you determined? What is the "nightmare"?” 


“The greatest damage you are getting is from so called vehicles. As their number in large 
cities is tremendous. Each of them is producing extremely unhealthy toxic gas and 
dangerous substances for the human organism. The most awful thing is that these 
substances are getting mixed up with earth particles or, dust as you call it, so the dust gets 
saturated with it. While the vehicles are moving the saturated dust gets into the air and 
people are breathing in this terrible mixture. Also these particles are scattered all over 
covering grass, trees and everything around. This is very bad!” 

“Sure it is bad. Everybody knows about it only nobody is able to do anything about it. 
There are washing machines but they can't cope with this task. You, Anastasia, have 
discovered absolutely nothing new. You have not thought of an original solution of the 
purification problems 

“I've just determined the main source of harm, now I'll start analyzing and think it over. 
Now I need a long time for concentrating, maybe, an hour, because I have never been 
involved in something like this before. To kill time, you can go for a walk in the forest 
or...” 


“Please, mind your own business and don't worry about me. I'll find what to do”. 

Anastasia went deep down into herself. When I came back after a half an hour's walk, I 
found her, it seemed to me, rather unsatisfied and I said, trying to comfort her: 

“You see, Anastasia, in this case even your brain is helpless. Please, don't get upset. Many 
research institutes are working on this problem but all of them, just like you did, are only 
able to ascertain the fact of pollution. Yet they have managed to do absolutely nothing till 
now”. Her reply sounded guilty: 

“Well, I've tried, I guess all possible variants, to solve it quickly and by 50 percent... 

Sorry, I've failed”. I pricked up my ears for, evidently, she had found some answer. 

“What amount did you get?”, I asked. 

She sighed and said, “I've not reached a lot. My percentage is only 35-40 percent 
improvements 

“What?! Are you kidding?”, I could not restrain myself. 

“Very poor, isn't it?”, she asked. My throat got dry. I felt that Anastasia could not lie, 
exaggerate or underestimate. 

“All right, let's change the conditions of the problem. Now tell me quickly what you have 
thought of?” 

“It is necessary that all these vehicles should not only scatter this disgusting dust but 



should be able to collect it”. 


“What is it necessary to do? Tell me! Hurry up!” 

“What is it that sticks out in front of the vehicles, what do you call it?” 

“A bumper”, I prompted. 

“So, it is a bumper. Right inside or under it they should fix a box with holes on the top 
cover of it. The back cover should also have holes from the which air could get out. 

While these vehicles are moving the flow of dusty, toxic air can go through the front 
holes. It would get purified and get out through the back ones. The air will get purified by 
20 percent”. 

“What are the 40 percent I've been promised?” 

“Right now this road dust is not being removed and while using this method it's amount 
would be getting less and less as it will be removed every day and everywhere. I've 
calculated that within a month with the help of these kind of boxes, providing that they 
were installed on all vehicles, the quantity of polluted dust could be reduced by 40 
percent. Though the air pollution percentage would not continue to go down as there are 
other factors which prevent it”. 

“What is the size of the box? What should they contain? What is the number of the holes? 
What is the supposed distance in between the holes?” 

“I say, Vladimir, maybe, you would like me to fix all these boxes to each vehicle”. 

It was the first time that I realized that Anastasia had a sense of humor. I burst out 
laughing when I tried to visualize Anastasia fixing her boxes to the vehicles. She also 
started to laugh and spin around the clearing. Really the idea was very simple and our 
technique could take care of the rest. I tried to imagine on my own how everything could 
be done. A couple of special decrees on behalf of the leading administrative authorities, 
proper control of State Automobile Inspections, filter exchanges at gas stations and 
control tickets would be needed”. 

“Wait a minute, Anastasia, will you stop, please”. I was trying to attract her attention as 
she was spinning in a dance.” What is supposed to be inside these boxes?” 

“Inside... inside of the boxes? Well, for a change you should think for yourself. It is so 
simple”, she replied without stopping her dance. 

“All right, and where will the money come from?”, I asked her again. She stopped 
dancing: 

“Well, what do you mean "where from"? You have only asked me for the most rational 
idea and here it is. I've thought of exactly the one you had programmed. They will use it 



all over the world in large cities and pay Russia for this idea. This will pay the amount of 
money just sufficient to cover the costs of seeds for dachniks and you will get paid too. 
Only your money would come to you under certain conditions” 

At that time I did not pay attention to her words “certain conditions” as I was too busy 
trying to figure out something different: 

“So, do you mean it is necessary to patent it? Who will pay voluntarily ?”. “Why not? 
They will, just a minute, I'll set the percentage Russia will get from the boxes' production 
by 2 percent and 0.01 percent for you”. 

“What is the use of your settings? You are smart in some fields but as for business 
matters you are a complete layman. Nobody will pay voluntarily. They don't even pay 
according to signed agreements. If you knew only know the number of non payments! 
The courts of arbitration are overloaded. Do you know what an arbitration tribunal is?” 

“I suppose. In this case they will pay meticulously. The one who refuses to pay will get 
ruined. Only honest ones will prosper”. 

“How would they be ruined? Is it you who is going 

to ruin them?”. “Oh, good for you! What else? It's unbelievable. Anyhow, they will do it 
on their own and be more precise, circumstances will happen to make it unfavorable for 
the deceivers and eventually they will be ruined”. 

At that moment an idea crossed my mind: taking into consideration the fact that 
Anastasia could not lie and as she had said herself, the natural mechanisms would not 
allow her to make any mistake. Before making that kind of statement she evidently had 
processed in her mind a tremendous volume of information and colossal mathematical 
calculations had to be made. At the same time it was necessary to take into consideration 
a great mass of psychological factors. These are caused by the people who would be 
involved in her project. Actually to interpret everything into our language, Anastasia had 
not only solved the most difficult problem of our time, air purification, but created and 
analyzed a business plan. Moreover, she had done it within only half an hour. As I wanted 
to specify some details I asked her, “Tell me, Anastasia, had you made any calculations in 
your mind, before giving me the percentage numbers of the air purification. Then what is 
the expected income and benefits from the production of your boxes for the vehicles, 
filter changing and so on?” 

“Very detailed calculations have been done and not only with the help of my own 
brain...”. 

“Stop, will you! Be quiet! Let me finish. Tell me, could you compete with the most 
powerful and perfect modern computer, let's say, a Japanese or an American one. 

“But I am not interested in it”, was her reply. Then she added, “It's so primitive and to 
some extent even humiliating for me. To compete with a computer is just like... well, how 



can I explain it to you by a simple example? Well, it's equivalent to competing with an 
artificial limb and, to be more precise, not exactly with a complete prosthetic appliance 
but only a certain part of it. A computer is lacking the main thing and this main thing is 
feelings”. 

I started to debate trying to prove a quite opposite opinion, telling her that the people who 
play chess with a computer are considered to be very smart and highly respected in our 
society. Having failed to convince her after trying all kinds of reasoning, I asked her to do 
me a favor and also, for the good of other people, to prove a human brain's abilities and 
possibilities. She agreed and I did my best to specify the issue, “Do you mean that I can 
announce officially your willingness to compete with a Japanese super computer in 
solving problems?” 

“Why precisely a Japanese one?”, asked Anastasia. “Because they are believed to be the 
best in the world”. “Are they? I would rather compete with all of your computers 
together. So you would not ask me to get involved into any other kind of competition in 
the future”. 

“Fine”, I felt very happy, “Let's do it with all computers, let's formulate the task now”. 

“All right”, agreed Anastasia, “but to begin with, without wasting time on the task 
formulation, let them solve the problem which you had suggested to me and let them 
prove or decline my solution. If they disprove of mine, let them make their own 
suggestions. People and life itself will judge us”. 

“Wonderful, Anastasia! Good for you! It's a constructive design. What do you think, will 
it take a long time to solve this problem? I guess, an hour and a half will not be sufficient 
time for them. Let's give them three months”. 

“All right. Let it be three months”. 

“I proposed to take as referees all those who are willing to do it. If their number is great 
nobody will be able to influence their estimations mercenarily” 

“Let it be. I would like to tell you more about children and then education...”. 

Anastasia believes that the education of children is the most important issue of today. She 
usually speaks about it with great joy. My idea of competing with our computers did not 
provoke in her any special interest. However, I was glad to obtain her consent and right 
now I am calling upon the firms which produce modem computers, inviting them to 
compete with Anastasia in solving the problem mentioned above. To summarize and call 
it a bargain I asked, “What about a winner's prize?” 

“I need nothing!”, was her answer. 

“Why do you speak on your behalf? Are you absolutely sure of your victory ?” 



“Of course, I am sure! Because I am human”. 

“Well, all right. Anyhow, what would you suggest for a firm which could be second after 
you?” 

“Well, I'll try to give them some ideas about how they could modify their computers”. 
“Sounds fine! Let's call it a bargain!” 



Chapter 22 


“THERE WAS LIFE IN HIM AND THE 
LIFE WAS THE LIGHT OF PEOPLE” 

The Gospel of John 


Once on my request Anastasia took me to see the Ringing Cedar, the one her great- 
granddad and granddad had spoken about. It was not far away from the clearing. It was 
approximately a forty meter high tree which towered a little above the neighboring ones. 
The distinctive feature of it was its crown. It looked as if it was illuminated, producing a 
halo around itself exactly like those they depict around the images of saints on icons, 
though its halo was pulsating. At the very top of the tree one could see a beam which was 
directed into cosmic infinity. The sight was extraordinarily fascinating and it cast a spell. 

I followed Anastasia's suggestion and pressed my palm against its trank. I felt vibration 
or crackling which could be compared with that which we can hear when under a high 
voltage line, though this one was more resonant. 

“You know, it was me who had found out, only by chance, how to send its accumulated 
energy back to the Cosmos and after that to send it back scattering it all over the Earth”. 
Anastasia reported to me, “Do you see the marks on the trank? At the very places it was 
debarked by the she bear which was dragging me climbing up the tree. I tell you, I could 
hardly manage to make her do it taking me to the first branches. I took a strong grip on 
the back of her neck. She was climbing up and howling, howling and climbing. That was 
the way I had managed to reach the first branches and then it was easy for me to climb 
moving up from branch to branch. 

So I went on till I reached the top of the cedar. I stayed there for two days. I tried 
everything possible. Whatever came to my mind: now I was comforting the tree by 
stroking it's trank. Then I started to shout, directing my sound upwards, but nothing 
seemed to work. 

Then my granddaddy and great granddaddy came. Can you imagine what kind of show 
was happening here at that time? They were standing under the tree speaking strictly to 
me demanding me to climb down. I, in turn, was demanding from them instructions on 
what to do, how to handle the problem but they would not. My granddaddy, can you 
imagine, he decided to trick me by promising his help in establishing a contact with a 
woman with whom I had failed to contact. I did want to help her very much. I realized 
that before he used to get irritated and even angry at me because, as he stated, I was 



wasting my time on her instead of minding my own business and doing something else. I 
knew for sure that he was not able to help me because my great granddaddy had tried 
twice and failed too. Although my granddaddy did not know about it, as we kept it secret 
from him. 

Then my granddaddy completely lost his temper, a twig, started running around the 
Cedar, switching the twig and screaming at me that I was the most stubborn muddle- 
headed one in the family. He said that my behavior was illogical. I could not perceive 
wise advice and he would "educate" by beating me with twigs on my behind. All those 
speeches and actions he accompanied by whipping the air with his twig. It was so funny 
and even my great granddad could not help but laugh. I was shouting with laughter too. 

At that moment somehow I broke the top branch and luminescence came out of it. I heard 
my great-granddaddy's voice become very serious with a shade of demanding and at the 
same time pleading: “Please, don't touch anything else, my grandchild, come down, be 
careful, take your time, you have done it already”. I followed his advice and came down. 
My great-granddaddy hugged me silently. I could feel that he was trembling then he 
pointed to the Cedar and one could see that all its twigs were starting to illuminate light. 

Then a small beam was created and went away high up into infinity. My great- 
granddaddy explained to me that the beam had been created at the very place I was 
shouting upwards, creating a kind of channel for the energy. Then he told me that if I had 
touched that small beam which was coming out of the broken twig my brain would have 
exploded. It happened because that tiny beam had a lot of powerful energy and 
information and that was why my dad and mamma had perished...”. 

For a while Anastasia was silent and then she continued her story: 

“They had found a similar Ringing Cedar. Only my mamma was doing everything 
differently because she did not know. She climbed a nearby tree which was smaller, 
reached the bottom branch of the Ringing One, half broke it and accidentally lighted 
herself with it. The branch was directed downwards and the beam went into the earth. It 
is very bad; it is very harmful when this kind of energy gets into the earth... 

When my dad came he saw the beam and my mamma hanging on one hand having a 
death grip on the branch of the regular cedar. The branch of the Ringing Cedar was in the 
other grip. Evidently my dad realized everything. He climbed the Ringing One and 
reached its top. My grand-daddy and great-granddaddy were watching him breaking the 
top twigs but they would not illuminate. Meanwhile the lower ones were illuminating 
brighter and brighter. 

Later on my great-granddad told me that my dad had understood that if he had only 
stayed a bit longer he would have never been able to come down but the long awaited 
beam which should have gone upwards with its pulsating illumination would not appear. 
Although the tiny beams which were directed downwards were growing in number. The 
beam directed upwards appeared only when my dad had half broken a big branch directed 
upwards. It did not start illuminating right away so he had to bend it directing it towards 



himself. When it flashed out he could not manage to unclasp his hands and the beam of 
the straightened out branch was directed into the sky. 

Then a pulsating halo was created. The great-granddaddy said that dad's brain was able to 
receive a huge flow of energy and information at the very last moment of his life. 
Somehow that energy could clean his brain from all kinds of information which had been 
loaded in it before. That was why it was possible for him to gain time just enough to 
unclasp his hands before the brain explosion had taken place and direct the branch 
upwards”. 

Anastasia rubbed the Cedar’s trunk with her hands, pressed her cheek against it and stood 
still smiling, trying to catch the tree's vibrating sound. 

“Anastasia, is the oil from cedar nuts stronger or weaker than the pieces of the Ringing 
Cedar wood?” 

“The same. If the nuts are harvested at the proper time and in a certain proportion to a 
cedar tree, when it gives them of itself’. 

“Do you know how to do it?” 

“Yes, I do”. 

“Will you tell me?” 

“All right. I will”. 



Chapter 23 


IT IS NECESSARY TO CHANGE 
ONE'S OWN WORLD OUTLOOK 


I asked Anastasia about the woman who caused the conflict between Anastasia and her 
granddad. I asked why she could not make contact and establish a relationship with that 
woman and what did she need it for? 

“You see”, Anastasia started her explanation, “it is very important when two persons join 
their lives into one on the basis of spirituality, bondage and attraction. Unfortunately, 
most of the time, everything starts from carnal desires. Well, for example, you had seen a 
beautiful girl and a desire of intimacy came to you. Although it does not mean that you 
have seen a real personality, the soul itself. Very often people join their destinies led only 
by carnal attraction. This does not last long. So they switch over to another one. What 
connects people then? 

It is not a very complicated task at all to find your soul mate with whom you can find real 
happiness. Although in your technocratic world there are a lot of obstacles to it. The 
woman, I am seeking contact with, lives in a large city, regularly goes to the same place, 
evidently to work. 

Over there or, maybe on her way to that place, there is a man who is her soul mate. They 
are very closely related spiritually. She could be really very happy with him and, what is 
of most importance, they could have a child who would be able to bring a lot of good to 
the world. You know, Vladimir, they would be able to create it in the same impulse we 
did. This man can't find the way to express his feelings to this woman and to some extent 
she creates the problem. Can you imagine, when he is looking at her face he recognizes 
subconsciously his soul mate. 

On her part, as soon as she feels somebody's gaze she strains trying, as if by chance, to 
pull her skirt higher or something like that. By doing it she provokes a carnal desire but 
he doesn't know her well enough or maybe they have never been introduced to one 
another. Anyhow this is the reason that he goes to the one who is more familiar, closer to 
him and available for him to satisfy his carnal feelings. 

I would like to prompt this woman on how to behave but I can't get through to her. Her 
brain is never opened, even for a moment, to realize the message and information 
involved. It is completely preoccupied with everyday problems. Can you imagine, I was 



watching her once all day and night long. It's terrible! My granddaddy was blaming me 
for ignoring my work with dachniks and in general for scattering myself. He said that I 
was wasting my time and poking my nose into something that had nothing to do with me 
and my business. 

The first thought which would come to her on awakening in the morning: 

“What to eat”, instead of being happy and welcoming the coming day. She gets upset just 
because the food she would like to have is not available. Then she gets frustrated as she 
does not have enough of something that women usually put on their face in the morning 
(maybe it is cream or colors). Her mind is always busy trying to figure out the way to get 
it. She is always late and in a hurry. She is always afraid to miss this or that means of 
transportation. 

At the place where she comes usually her mind is absolutely overloaded and, to be more 
precise, to my mind, by all kinds of nonsense. She is trying to keep the appearance of 
being preoccupied with business matters and minding the job she is supposed to do. 
Nevertheless she is thinking evidently about her girlfriend or just an acquaintance and she 
is having a feeling of irritation towards her. At the same time she is trying to listen to 
everything they are talking about. Can you believe, this is her regular routine which is 
repeated from day to day as if she were a clockwork toy. 

When she is back at home and if somebody can see her, she keeps the look of a woman 
but really she is thinking again about all kind of colors. When at a store she takes a good 
look at the clothes and mainly that kind which recover her alluring charms, assuming that 
they would work a miracle though in reality in her particular case everything goes quite 
the contrary. 

When back home again she starts house cleaning. She believes that she is enjoying a rest 
while staring at a television set. Se messes about with food and the most important thing 
of all is that she thinks about something good only for a moment. She goes to bed and 
again, she can't just leave her troubles alone. Isn't it something! She never lets them go! If 
she could only try to let them go only for a minute during the daytime and try to think...”. 

“Wait a minute, Anastasia, will you explain, please, what do you imagine her appearance 
should look like. I mean her clothes and what exactly should she think at the very 
moment when that man is near by? What does she need to do in order that he would be 
able to open his heart to her?” 

Anastasia told me everything in detail though I am going to tell you only the main idea as 
I see it. Anastasia said, “She should wear a dress a little bit below her knees, not a low 
necked one with a white collar and be almost without make up. She should learn to listen 
to the speaker who is communicating with her with great attention and interests 


“Is that all?”, I asked, being surprised to hear such a simple explanation. And Anastasia's 
reply sounded like follows: 



“There is a lot behind these simple things. In order to choose the right dress, put on her 
make up differently and look at a person without false interest she should change her 
world outlook”. 



Chapter 24 


MORTAL SIN 


“I need to speak to you, Vladimir, about the conditions under which you would be able to 
get your money from banks when you have a lot in your account”. 

“Oh, it's interesting! Go ahead, Anastasia, tell me, it's a pleasant procedure” I remarked. 
Though the next moment the words I heard made me burst out... It's unbelievable! Just 
read and be my judge... 

Anastasia proceeded, “Whenever you decide that you need to get money from your bank 
account you should do the following procedure: 

“First of all, three days before going to a bank to get your money you should not drink 
alcohol. When you arrive at the bank, the bank senior official is supposed to carry out the 
inspection, in accordance with this condition, using an instrument specially designed for 
this purpose, in the presence of not less than two witnesses. As soon as you are through 
with the above mentioned procedure you are ready to start with a second one. 

You should drop curtseys not less than nine times in front of the bank senior official and 
those two witnesses present there...”. 

When the sense of these conditions had reached my consciousness, though I would rather 
say the senselessness. I jumped up and she stood up too. I could not believe what heard 
and asked again, “First they will check me regarding the presence of alcohol and after 
that I am supposed to drop curtseys in the presence of witnesses not less than nine times, 
am I right?” 

“Exactly”, was her reply, “for each drop they can give you a sum of money not more than 
one million in your currency in accordance with the up-to-date value”. 

I was overwhelmed with feelings of madness, anger and frustration. 

j “Why have you said this? Just tell me why? I was || so happy I trusted you. I have even 
started to believe that you are right on many things, that there is logic in your 
conclusions. But you... Do you realize that men do not curtsey? They bow. Only women 
curtsey. Now I am absolutely convinced that you are a schizophrenic, a forest fool, a 



crazy one. You have crossed over by your last statement. It is absolutely senseless and the 
bottom line is there is no logic in it at all. You know what, it is not only my personal 
opinion. Any clear thinking man can prove it to you. Ha... Maybe you would like me to 
put these conditions of yours down into the book you want me to write?” 

“Yes, I would like you to do it”. 

“Well, well, I am quite sure now that you are absolutely not in your right mind. Are you 
going to write a special instruction or maybe an edict for banks?” 

“No, I am not. They will read the book and all of them will act accordingly. Otherwise 
they will face bankruptcy” 

“Oh, God! ! ! I can't believe that I am still listening to this creature the for third day in a 
row! Maybe you would like the senior officials to drop curtseys also together with me in 
the presence of the witnesses?” 

“It would be a good idea for him to behave exactly the way you will. It would be of great 
use for all of them though I did not put them on these kinds of terms as I have done in 
your case”. 

“Does it mean that you have demonstrated such favor only for me? Do you have any idea 
what kind of a laughing stock you have made of me? Now anyone can see what could 
result if one is loved by a crazy hermit. Just remember, nothing will come out of your 
tricks. Not a single bank will ever agree to serve me under these kinds of terms. It does 
not matter how much you try to model your situations. Look at her! She is lost in her 
daydreams. I tell you, right here, where you belong, you can drop curtseys as much as 
you like”. 

“The banks will agree and, even without your consent, will open accounts for you, 
though I should add, only those which are willing to work honestly. Moreover, people 
will trust them and become their customers”, continued Anastasia holding her ground. 

Anger and irritation were accumulating in me more and more. I was becoming rude and 
nasty, to say the least. She was standing leaning her back against a tree trunk, her head 
slightly bent forward, one hand was pressed to her chest with the other one which raised 
up as she was waving slightly. I recognized that gesture. She used to do did it when she 
was trying to calm down the environment. She was protecting me that way, so I would 
not get scared and I realized why she was calming down at that time... Any rudeness or 
offensive word directed towards Anastasia was hurting her like a whip, making her body 
wince. 

I shut my mouth, sat down on the grass again turning my back to Anastasia. I made a 
decision that I would calm down, then go to the shore and never speak to her again. That 
was why when I heard her speaking behind my back I was very surprised as there was no 
outrage or reproach in the tone of her voice. 



“Don’t get me wrong, Vladimir, all bad things which are happening to man are being 
attracted by man. This happens only when he is violating the laws of spirituality and 
losing contact with Nature. 

The dark forces are trying to mislead man's attention by the momentary attractiveness of 
your technocratic being. To make you forget the simple truth and the commandments 
which were set forth for humankind long ago through the Bible. They do succeed very 
often. One of man's mortal sins is arrogance and a great majority of people are prone to it. 
Right now I am not going to speak about the great baneful influence of this sin on man. If 
you would like to leam more about this subject when you come back home you will be 
able to understand it yourself or with the help of enlightened people who will come into 
your life. 

Right now I have to say only that the dark forces, as opposed to the light ones, are using 
every moment in trying to cultivate sin so it could stay with man and the most important 
instrument of their efforts is money. Actually they invented money and now money exists 
as a high voltage zone. The dark forces are very proud of their invention. They even think 
that they are stronger than the lights just because they had managed to think up money. 
The great opposition has been lasting for thousands of years and man is in the center of it. 

I don't want you to be held liable for this sin since I do understand that nobody can 
manage to overcome it. All kinds of explanations which have been given to humankind 
have not worked out, as man has not recognized the right way to resist this sin. You too 
would not be able to realize it naturally by yourself. I would like to help you to get rid of 
this mortal danger of spirit spoiling and that was why I had thought up especially for you 
a special situation in which this mechanism of the dark forces looks as if it breaks down 
and moreover it works quite the contrary, it eradicates the sin. 

That's why they had become so mad at me. Their anger moved into you and that was why 
you started to shout at me using insulting words and expressions. They wanted me to get 
angry at you but I’ll never do that. I've realized that my invention had just hit the mark 
and now it is quite evident to me that it is possible to break their perfectly adjusted 
mechanisms. These were working without a hitch for millennia. It was my first 
experience till now. I have done it only for you but I shall also think up something for 
other people... Well, what's wrong if you drink less of this intoxicating potion and not 
become an arrogant and obstinate person? What has made you so excited ? Surely it was 
the arrogance which had leaped inside you”. She became quiet and I became thoughtful. 

It was unbelievable and absolutely extraordinary or better to say a comical situation. 
Whatever one can call this squatting or curtseys at banks, which her brain could invent. 
“Anyhow her mind has logged a very deep meaning into it and, to tell the truth, there 
could be a logic to it... Of course, it requires one to take a closer look at it”, I thought to 
myself. 

All kinds of ill feelings towards Anastasia were gone. They were replaced by a feeling of 
vague guilt though I did not apologize at that time. I only turned towards her seeking 
peace. 



Chapter 25 


GETTING IN TOUCH 
WITH PARADISE 


“Your brain has been tired by the effort of understanding me yet I would like to tell you a 
lot more. Right now, Vladimir, you need a rest. Let's sit down for a while”, said 
Anastasia. So we did. We sat down on the grass. Anastasia attracted me to her taking me 
by my shoulders. The back of my head touched her breast and I experienced a feeling of 
pleasant warmth. 

“Don’t be afraid of me, relax”, she said quietly and lay me down on the grass helping me 
to relax and feel comfortable by dipping her lingers into my hair as if combing it and 
with the linger tips of another hand she started to give me quick touches to my forehead 
and temples. Occasionally she pricked me with her nails at different points on my head. 
All these manipulations gave me feeling of comfort, peace and enlightenment. After that 
Anastasia put her hands on my shoulders and said, “Now, please, listen attentively and try 
to distinguish the surrounding sounds”. 

I followed her suggestion and I could catch a great variety of sounds which differed in 
tone, rhythm and duration. I started to enumerate them aloud, “The singing of birds in the 
trees, chirping and clicking of insects in the grass, rustling of leaves and the flapping of 
wings”. Having enumerated everything I had heard I stopped and tried to lend an 
attentive ear to the natural sounds and while doing it I was experiencing a great joy. It 
was a pleasure mixed with an awakened interest. “You have not named something else”, 
remarked Anastasia. “Why? What else? That's all. Well, maybe I've missed something 
insignificant or I just can't distinguish it”. 

“Vladimir, don't you hear my heart beating”, asked Anastasia. To tell the truth, I really 
did not pay attention to that sound. 

“Oh, yes, I do”, I announced hurriedly, “sure, I do. I hear it. I can hear it very well. Its 
beat is calm and smooth”. 

“All right. Now try to remember the intervals between the sounds you can hear. In order 
to do it you should select the main ones and memorize them”. So I did. I picked out the 
rattling of an insect, a crow croaking, the babbling and splashing of water in the brook. 

“Now I shall accelerate my heart beating and you listen attentively to everything that is 



going to take place around you”. 


Her heart beats were becoming more frequent and the rhythm of the nearby sounds 
followed the changes. Their tone turned into a higher one. 

“It is amazing. It's just unbelievable !”I exclaimed. “Does it mean that they are so 
sensitive and can react to the rhythm of your heart beating?” 

“Exactly. Absolutely all of them. From a tiny blade of grass to a large tree and even a tiny 
bug. They can respond to any change of a heart rhythm. The trees accelerate their inner 
processes, they start to produce more oxygen...”. 

“Is it the way all plants and animals react when they are near people?”, I asked. 

“No, it is not. In your world they don't recognize whom they should react to because 
people are not trying to contact them. People do not realize the destination of this contact. 
They don't give them sufficient information about themselves. Such kind of contact can 
take place between plants and people who are working at their garden strips, but only 
when they behave the way I've already described to you. First of all, they have to saturate 
the seeds with information about themselves and start their communication to the plants 
more deliberately. Do you want me to show you what kind of feeling man could 
experience if he were enjoying this kind of contact?” 

“Of course, I do. How will you do it, I wonder?” 

“Right now I am going to adjust the rhythm of my heart beating to yours and you will 
feel it”. 

She pushed her hand under my shirt. Her warm palm was slightly pressed against my 
chest. Her heart was slowly adjusting to my heart beating and soon it started to work in 
unison with mine. A miracle happened. I experienced an extraordinarily pleasant feeling 
as if my beloved relatives and my mother were nearby A wonderful feeling of softness 
and healthy well being spread all over my body; my soul was full of joy, freedom and a 
new understanding of the Universe. 

The whole range of surrounding sounds was caressing and telling me the truth. Although 
I had not realized that feeling completely yet it was felt intuitively. All kinds of joyous, 
mellow and pleasing feelings which I had never experienced before were merging into 
one wonderful feeling. Maybe that kind of feeling they call happiness. 

As soon as Anastasia started to change the rhythm of her heart beat that wonderful feeling 
began to fade. It was leaving me. I asked her, “Oh, please, Anastasia, not yet, leave it for a 
while”. 

“Sorry, I can't do it for a long time, I have a rhythm of my own”. 

“Please, keep it a little bit longer”, I was begging her. Anastasia gave me the gift of 



happiness just for a couple of moments more and then everything vanished. Although a 
tiny particle of that heavenly pleasure and bright feeling, as a recollection about it, was 
left inside me. For a while we kept silent and then a desire to hear Anastasia's voice again 
came to me and I asked her, “Did the first people on the Earth feel as good as I did? Well, 

I mean, did Adam and Eve feel the same way? Isn't it something! Just lie down, enjoy 
yourselves and experience a mellow and pleasing feeling. Here you are, everything is at 
your disposal... Though it would become boring”. 

“Will you tell me, Vladimir, are there many of those who think exactly the same way you 
do, about the first man, Adam?”, Anastasia asked me in return. 

“Well, I guess a large majority of people do. But really, what had they to do over there in 
Paradise? It was later on when man started to develop himself 

trying to think up all kinds of stuff. Labor has developed man. Only through labor has 
man become smarter”. 

“It is true. It is necessary to work but the first man was immeasurably cleverer than today 
and his labor was more significant. It required great intellect, comprehension and will 
power”. 

“All right, what did Adam do, staying in Paradise? Did he cultivate a garden? Well, it is 
not a big deal. Nowadays every gardener can do it. The Bible tell nothing else about 
Adam's activities” 

“If they would have put into the Bible everything in detail then one would not be able to 
read it within a whole lifetime. It is necessary to understand the Bible, behind each line of 
the Holy Book there is a huge amount of information. Do you want to know what Adam 
was doing? All right, I'll tell you about it. 

To begin with, just try to recall what the Bible says. It is exactly right there. God had 
entrusted Adam to determine the destination of each creature living on the Earth and give 
names to them. He has done it. He has done something that till now all the scientific 
establishments in the world taken together have not managed to perceive”. 

“Anastasia, and what about you, do you appeal to God, do you ask from Him anything 
for yourself?” 

“What else can I ask for? I have already been given a lot. I must be thankful to Him and 
help Him”. 



Chapter 26 


WHO WILL BRING UP OUR SON? 


On our way back, when Anastasia was accompanying me to my motorboat, we stopped 
for a rest exactly at the place where she left her outer clothing and I asked her, 

“Anastasia, how shall we bring our son up?” 

“You, Vladimir, try to realize one thing. You can't yet bring him up. When his eyes are 
ready to look at the world intelligently for the first time you should not be near him”. 

I gripped her by her shoulders and gave her a good shake, “What are you talking about? 
You know, you are taking too many liberties. I don't understand where are you getting 
these distinct conclusions from? Generally speaking, the fact of your existence itself is 
inconceivable. Although it does not give you any right to decide everything your way 
against all laws of simple logic”. 

“Please, Vladimir, calm down. I have no idea of the kind of logic you mean but try to 
realize everything quietly”. 

“What do I need to realize? This is not only your child but mine also and I want him to 
have a father, I want him to be provided with everything he may need and properly 
educated”. 

“Please, try to understand, he does not need any material welfare the way you understand 
it. He will get everything primordially. While yet in his infancy 

he will get and realize such amounts of information that education, as you understand it, 
is absolutely ridiculous. It would be almost the same as if they try to send a great 
mathematician to learn the program of the first grade at a primary school. You would like 
to bring to the baby some senseless trinket but it is absolutely useless. The baby doesn't 
need it. You need it for self-satisfaction. "Oh, how nice and thoughtful I am! Everybody, 
look at me!" If you believe that by providing your son with a car or anything else that you 
believe to be "a good thing of life", you are doing a great blessing for him. You are 
wrong. 

If he would like he will get it on his own. Just try to remain calm and think what exactly 
you can say to your son or teach him? Have you done anything great that he would like to 
follow?” She continued her speech saying it in a very soft and quiet voice but the words 



were plunging me into tremors. “Try to understand, when he starts to understand the 
Universe and you, if you happen to be by his side, it will look just like an undeveloped 
being. Do you want your son to think his father is a dunderhead? The only thing that can 
bring you more close to him is the degree of pure thinking. This purity can be reached 
only by a few people in your world”. 

I realized that it was absolutely useless to argue with her and shouted at her giving myself 
up to despair: “So, it means that he will never know about me?!” 

“I'll tell him about you and your world when he is ready to realize everything intelligently 
and make his own decisions. I don't know what he will do, it is up to him to decide”. 

Pain, despair, offence and terrible guesswork, everything got mixed up inside me. An 
unbearable desire to smash that beautiful, intellectually hermitic face of hers awoke 
inside me. I realized everything my own way and it made me short of breath because of 
what I had realized! I started my tirade: 

“Well, everything, I guess, is evident? Now I have realized what you are... Well, you 
could find nobody around to "have a bad fall" (Russian vulgarity for "to have dirty sex") 
in order to have a baby of yours. At the beginning you were even putting on airs, but you 
are a poor plotter. You were trying to pretend to be a nun. You just needed a baby. You 
even went to Moscow for this purpose. Look at her, she had sold her berries and 
mushrooms! Why? You would rather become a street- walker. You only had to take off 
your shawl and quilted jacket and somebody would bite your hook. Then you would not 
need to spin your web involving me into it. 

Oh, yes! Of course. But of course! You needed a man who was dreaming of having a son 
too and here you are! You have achieved that goal of yours! I wonder, did you think about 
a child, a son, whose predestination was to be a hermit? He is supposed to live his life 
according to your modelling, what is right for you? Isn't it something that you were 
talking so much about the Truth. You talk too much of liberty and allow too much to 
yourself, poor hermit woman. Are you thinking of yourself as the highest stage of Truth 
itself? And what about me? Did you think about me? 

Yes, that's right, I did dream about a son! I was dreaming about leaving to him my 
business, teaching him to live right. I wanted to love him. And now! What am I going to 
do now? How shall I live? What kind of life would it be when one knows that his tiny 
baby son is somewhere in a wild taiga crawling helplessly and unprotected? Without a 
future! Without his father! Well, one would have a heart break because of it. You can't 
understand it, you are a forest female!” 

“Maybe, your heart will become intelligent and everything will turn to be good. This kind 
of pain will purify your soul, accelerate your thinking, calling upon...” she pronounced 
quietly. 


Such an anger was storming inside me that I could not control myself any more. I gripped 
a stick, ran away from Anastasia and started whipping against a small tree with all my 



might till it was broken. 


Then I turned towards Anastasia and when I saw her... Although it could sound strange 
but my anger started to vanish away. A thought crossed my mind: 

“What's the matter with me, I have lost control of myself again and become stormy”. 
Exactly the same way as it was at that time when I was abusing her before, she was 
standing pressing herself against a tree trunk with one hand raised up and her head was 
slightly bent forward as if she was withstanding a hurricane wind. My anger was gone 
completely. I came closer to her and started to examine her. 

Her hands were pressed against her chest, her body was trembling, she was silent, only 
her kind, as kind as usual, eyes were looking at me tenderly. We were examining each 
other for a while. I was thinking to myself: “No doubt, she is not able to say an untruth. 
She could keep to herself everything she had said but she... She knows that she is going 
to suffer and yet she speaks... She just can't help it. Of course, it is also a kind of an 
extremity. One can't live always telling only the truth, just the things one is thinking 
about. Well, there is nothing to be done if she is the way she is and she just can't be 
different. Everything had happened the way it was supposed to. Whatever had to happen 
had just happened? It was just inevitable” 

I tried to comfort myself by positive thinking: “Now she is going to become the mother 
of my son, surely. No doubt she will, since she has told it. It is true that she will be a 
strange mother, not a regular one because of her way of life... her thinking... Well, there is 
nothing I can do about it. I can't change her. On the other hand, she is physically strong. 
She is kind; she knows a lot about nature and animals. And she is smart, though her mind 
is a rather peculiar one. Nevertheless, she knows a lot about the way to bring up and 
educate children. Wasn't she trying to speak all the time about children? She will nurse 
my son. A woman like her will manage to do it. She will go through cold and 
snowstorms. For sure, it is just child's play to her. She will nurse him and bring him up. It 
is just necessary for me somehow to adjust myself to the situation. I will visit them in 
summer just like coming to a dacha. It is impossible to come in wintertime, as I will not 
be able to stand it. In summer I would be able to play with my son. When he grows up I 
shall tell him about the people who live in large cities. Right now it is necessary at least 
to apologize for my behavior. So I said, “Sorry, Anastasia, I got nervous again”. 

And she started to speak right away, “It is not your fault, Vladimir. You should not punish 
yourself. Don't worry. It is quite natural because you are troubled and anxious about your 
son. Who would not be? You were getting concerned that he will not be happy here. That 
your son's mother is just a regular female. She is not able to love with a real human love. 
Please, don't you worry, don't get upset. You have told me everything just because you 
did not know, you knew nothing, my beloved about my love”. 



Chapter 27 


AFTER A WHILE 


“Anastasia, if you are so smart and powerful, then maybe you would be able to help me 
too?”, I started again. 

She looked up at the sky then looked at me again and said, “There is no being in the 
whole Universe which could be able to develop itself stronger than man as well as at the 
same time to enjoy more freedom. All other existing civilizations bent their knees before 
man. All kinds of other civilizations are able to develop and perfect themselves only in 
one direction and they are not free. 

The greatness of man is beyond their understanding. God, the Great Mind has created 
man that way. He has given to nobody more than He has given to Man...”. I could not 
comprehend or, rather to realize at that time what she had said and asked her again the 
same question. I was asking for help, not even realizing what kind of help I needed. 

She asked me back, “Well, what do you mean? Do you want me to heal all your physical 
illnesses? It is easy for me to do. Moreover, I did it half a year ago. However, I did not 
manage to achieve any results at the most important level. I could not reduce the quantity 
of the pernicious and dark things in you. They are the distinctive features of the people of 
your world. All kinds of sicknesses are trying to come back again. "A witch, a crazy 
woman hermit, it's necessary to get away from here, 

the sooner, the better". Those were the thoughts which crossed your mind, weren't they?” 

“Yes, that's right”, I answered with great surprise. “Those were exactly the thoughts. Are 
you reading my mind?” 

“I am just assuming what you may think. It is written on your face. Tell me, Vladimir, 
don't you remember me, just one a bit?” 

Her question surprised me very much and I started to peer into the features of her face. 
Yes, her eyes! A vague feeling that I had already seen these eyes somewhere came to 
me... but where could it be? 

“Anastasia, haven't you told me that you were living in the forest permanently? Then, 
how could I see you?” 



She smiled and ran away. In a while Anastasia came out from behind bushes. She was 
wearing a long skirt, brown knitted jacket with buttons. Her head was covered by a shawl 
which was hiding her hair. Though she did not have the quilted jacket I saw her wearing 
when I met her for the first time on the bank of the river. The shawl also was tied around 
her head in a different way. The clothes were clean but old fashioned, the shawl was 
covering her forehead and neck and finally, I recognized her... 



Chapter 28 


A STRANGE GIRL 


It was a year ago, the main steamboat of our caravan moored in a small village. Not far 
from that place we were planning to buy meat for our restaurant and stay for a while at 
the shore. About sixty kilometers ahead there was a dangerous space on our route up the 
river as the navigation lights were not working there and that was the reason why we 
could not move at night. We decided to organize an evening of recreation at our 
steamboat for the local youths. We started advertising through our broadcasting system of 
communication loudspeakers and the local radio. 

The alluring white steamboat, shining with multitudes of lights, the sounds of modern 
music always worked to attract local youths. In the evening almost all the young people 
of the village moved one after the other towards our luxurious steamboat. Usually our 
visitors at the beginning, especially the newcomers, like to go sightseeing. After a walk 
along the middle and upper decks they usually move towards our bar and restaurant. As a 
rule the girls enjoy dancing and the guys drink spirits. 

The exceptional atmosphere of the steamboat together with nice music and spirits always 
excites them. Although sometimes it causes some trouble for our crew as there is never 
enough time for the young people and they started collective appeals asking to prolong 
the pleasure for at least half an hour, then again and again. 

At that time I was in my cabin alone. I could hear the sounds of music from the restaurant 
and was trying to adjust the future schedule of our caravan movement. Suddenly I felt 
somebody's intent look. I turned and saw her eyes behind the glass of the window. At that 
time it did not surprise me as the visitors were always eager to see the steamboat cabins. I 
stood up and opened the window. She did not move and continued to look at me though 
she seemed a bit embarrassed. I felt like I should do something for that lonely woman 
who was standing in front of me. A thought crossed my mind: “Why isn't she dancing 
with all the rest, maybe she is troubled?”, I suggested I would be her guide and show her 
our steamboat. She bent her head silently as a sign of agreement. 

I took her sightseeing. I showed her our office which used to impress our visitors by its 
carpeting, soft leather furniture and computers. Then I invited her to my private cabin 
which consisted of a bedroom-study and a living room which was also furnished with a 
beautiful set of furniture. There was a TV set, a video player and also wonderful carpets 
on the floor. 



Apparently, at that time it was fun for me to impress a country girl from a remote area 
with the articles of a civilized way of living. I opened a box of chocolates for her. I also 
filled two fine crystal glasses with champagne trying my best to impress her completely 
with the ostentatiousness, turned on the video tape where Vika Tsiganova, a famous 
modern variety show singer, was performing Love and Death. There were many other 
songs on that tape which were performed by my favorite singers. She took a sip of 
champagne, looked at me attentively and asked, “It is very difficult, isn’t it?” 

I could expect any other question from her but that. The voyage was really a very difficult 
one. Because of the very complicated navigation situation on the river, the crew consisted 
mostly of the students of the River Vocational School. Some of them were smoking 
"herbs" and also from time to time stealing some stuff from our store. 

Very often we ran out of our schedule and could not manage to be on time at some 
settlements where people had been informed beforehand about our arrival. All those 
anxieties deprived me of the opportunity not only to enjoy the environmental beauty but 
also of time enough for a good sleep. 

I told her something like that: “It's all right, never mind, we shall overcomes Then I 
turned towards the window having my drink of champagne. We were talking about 
something else, watching videotapes almost till the end of our outing when our steamboat 
moored to the bank. I saw her to the ladder. 

On my way back to my cabin I noted to myself, “There was something strange about that 
woman and at the same time she left inside me some kind of light and bright feeling”. 
That night, for the first time after many days in a row I slept like a baby. 

“Dear me, so, it was you, Anastasia?” 

“Yes, that's right. Over there, in your cabin I had memorized all the songs I sang for you 
in the forest. While we were talking they were being played. Now you can see how 
simple everything is”. 

“How did you get on the steamboat?” 

“It was interesting for me to see the way everything was taking place, your way of life. 
You see, I usually took care only of my dachniks. I ran to the village, sold the dry 
mushrooms collected by the squirrels and bought a ticket for your outing. So, now I know 
a lot about the category of people you classify as entrepreneurs and I know you well 
enough too. I am sorry, I am feel, very guilty towards you. At that time I did not know 
that things would develop like that. That I could change your life and your destiny so 
much. I just couldn't help it as they have started accomplishing this plan. They are 
dependent only on God Himself. Now, for a while, you and your family are going to go 
through great difficulties and misfortunes but later on everything will be fine”. 

I did not realize what exactly Anastasia was talking about. Although at that time 
intuitively I felt that something was going to happen which would go beyond the realms 



of our regular imaginations. That something would have something to do with me. So I 
asked Anastasia to specify and tell me exactly what she had in her mind. I tell you, at that 
time while I was listening to her I could not even suspect the exactness on her prediction 
and that it would start to come true. Anastasia's story had brought me back to the events 
which took place a year ago. 

“At that time on the steamboat you showed me everything, even your cabin, treated me to 
chocolate, suggested champagne then accompanied me to the ladder. I did not leave the 
bank of the river. I was standing there behind the bushes and I could see through the 
lighted windows of the bar the dancing youths who were having fun. You took me 
sightseeing all over the boat except the bar. I guess the reason was my clothes. They did 
not correspond to the situation. I was twisted around into the shawl. I had my simple 
knitted jacket on and too long a skirt. Although I could take my shawl off, my jacket was 
clean and tidy, my skirt had been carefully pressed with my hands before I came to the 
boat”. 

She was right, I did not take her to the bar because of her strange looking clothes under 
which as it has now come out this young girl was hiding her dazzling beauty. This kind of 
beauty would have singled her out from the other people. I said to her, “Well, Anastasia, 
did you really need that bar, would you have danced there in those galoshes of yours? 

And don't tell me you know how to dance modern dances”. 

“Sorry, but at that time I was not wearing galoshes. When I was changing mushrooms for 
money to buy a ticket, I also took from that woman a pair of shoes. Although they were 
rather old and tight for me but I had polished them with grass and as far as dancing's 
concerned... you know, I just need to have one glance at those who dance, — that's all. 
Believe me, I can dance better than you can imagine”. 

“Sorry, did I hurt your feelings?” 

“No, you did not. Although if you had only invited me to the bar, I don't really know for 
sure whether it would have been good or bad, but the events could have taken a different 
course. Everything that has happened would never happened. Anyhow, right now I am 
not sorry. Whatever happened, just happened”. 

“Well, what exactly has happened? Has anything terrible happened?” 

“After having seen me off you did not return to your cabin. You called to the captain and 
you went to the bar together. When both of you came in, the audience was very 
impressed. The captain was wearing his uniform and he looked very smart. You also 
looked very elegant and respectable. You were well known to many people in the 
environs, the famous Megre, the owner of an exceptional caravan. Both of you realized 
perfectly well the impression you were producing on the surrounding people. 

You sat down at the table where three country girls were sitting. They were only eighteen 
years old, they had just finished school. The waitress brought you right away chocolate, 
champagne and crystal glasses of better quality than those the rest of the people were 



using. You took one of the girls by her hand, bent towards her and started to tell her 
something into her ear as far as I could understand... they call it "compliments". 


Then you danced a couple of dances with her and never stopped telling her something 
sweet. The girl's eyes were shining. She had an impression of being in wonderland. You 
took her out on deck and showed her the steamboat, exactly the way you did to me. You 
took her to your cabin, treated her to the same stuff you did to me: chocolate and 
champagne. Although your behavior was a little different, I mean not exactly what you 
did with me. While with me you were serious and even a shade of sadness was present. In 
her company you were full of joy. I could see it perfectly well through the lighted 
windows of your cabin. Maybe, at that time I wished I were her”. 

“Oh, did you feel jealous, Anastasia?” 

“I don't know what kind of feeling I was experiencing at that time but it was unfamiliar to 
me...”. 


I recalled that evening, those young country girls who were trying their best to look older 
and stylish. Next morning the captain of the steamboat Alexander Ivanovich Senchenko 
and I were laughing together at our night adventure. At that time when the girl was in my 
cabin I realized that she was in the state of mind when one is ready for anything... I did 
not mean to take possession of her, so I told Anastasia about it and she replied, “Still you 
had taken possession of her heart. You came out on deck, it was drizzling. You threw your 
jacket on the girl's shoulders and accompanied her back to the bar”. 

“What about you, were you standing all that time behind the bushes, in the rain?” 

“It was all right. The rain was very light and comforting though it was preventing me 
from watching. I did not want my shawl and skirt to get wet. You know, they belonged to 
my mammy. I was lucky to find a plastic bag on the shore so I took them off, put 
everything into it and hid it under my jacket”. 

“Anastasia, why didn't you come back to the steamboat since you did not go home and, 
moreover, it was raining”. 

“I couldn’t as you had seen me off and yet you had other worries so I did not want to 
bother you. The bottom line was that everything was coming to an end. When the party 
was over and the time came to say "Good-by", you at the request of the girls and mainly 
at the request of that girl who was with you on the steamboat, allowed the crew to stay by 
the shore a little bit longer. 

Everything was in your power including their hearts and you were intoxicated by that 
power. The local youth were thankful to the girls and the girls in turn felt themselves 
gifted by the power through you. They forgot absolutely about the young people who 
were also in the bar and though the same time they were their friends and former 
schoolmates. The captain and you accompanied the girls towards the ladder. Then you 
went to your cabin and the captain went to his bridge; the steamboat gave a hooting 



sound and slowly, very slowly started to cast off. 


The girl you were communicating with was standing on the shore among her girlfriends 
watching the beautiful white steamboat moving away. Her heart was beating strongly as 
if it was ready to break away. Her thoughts and feelings were messed up. Behind her back 
there were the dark shapes of the country cottages without lights. Before her there was 
the steamboat of her dreams leaving the shore forever. It was shining with multitudes of 
lights lavishly pouring charming music all over the river and the dark quiet shore-Over 
on that magic boat there were you. The one who told her so many beautiful words which 
she had never heard before, such alluring and charming words. All that magic was 
moving away from her forever. A decision came to her and in front of everybody... the 
girl squeezed her fingers into her fists 

and screamed desperately: "I love you, Vladimir!" Then again and again. Did you hear 
her screaming?” 

“Yes, I did”, I replied. 

“It was impossible not to hear it and the people from your crew could hear it too. Some of 
them came out to the deck and were laughing at her. I did not want them to laugh at her. 
And then as if they had realized something they stopped laughing. You did not come out 
on the deck and the steamboat was moving slowly away. She thought that you did not 
hear her and continued chanting, "I love you, Vladimir!" Then her girlfriends joined 
trying to help her. It intrigued me, I wanted to know what kind of feeling was the one 
which they call "love". Because of that feeling man could lose control over himself or 
maybe I wanted to help that girl. Anyhow I shouted together with them, "I love you, 
Vladimir." 

Somehow, at that moment I forgot that I could not pronounce words like that without 
meaning it. The words should always be supported by feelings, awareness and 
trustworthiness of natural information. Now I know how strong this feeling can be. 
Sometimes even the mind is not able to control it. Later on that country girl started 
wasting away, drinking spirits and I could hardly manage to help her. Now she is married 
and involved in everyday routine. I had to add her love to mine”. 

The story about the girl touched my feelings a little. Anastasia's words brought back the 
memory of that evening very clearly and in detail. Everything had happened exactly the 
way she had described. It was so real. Though Anastasia's rather peculiar declaration of 
love did not occur to me at that time. Even later on when I had learned and seen a lot of 
her way of living and got acquainted with her world, she still seemed to be an unreal 
being, though she was sitting next to me and I could reach and touch her easily. My 
consciousness, having been used to operate with different criteria of evaluation rejected 
taking her as the one who is existing in reality. Although, at the beginning of our meeting 
I was , attracted to her but later on I did not experience former emotions towards her. I 
asked, “So, it means , you think that the new feelings which appeared in you were 
occasional? 



“They are longed for”, answered Anastasia, “they are even pleasant but in return, I would 
like you to love me the same way I do. Though I have realized that on learning about me 
and about my world better, you would not be able to perceive me as a regular person. 
Maybe you could even get scared of me sometimes... You know, actually it has happened 
that way. It is all my fault. I have made a lot of mistakes. I don't know why but all the 
time I got nervous. I was rushing, trying to explain and failed to do it. Everything looks 
foolish, doesn't it? I need to correct myself’. 

While saying those words she was smiling with a shade of sorrow. She pressed her hand 
against her breast and I recalled right away something that had happened one morning 
while I stayed at Anastasia's. 



Chapter 29 


TINY BUGS 


That very morning I made up my mind to join her morning procedure. At the beginning 
everything ran smoothly. I was standing under a tree touching different shoots. She was 
speaking about herbs. Then I lay down on the grass next to her. We were absolutely naked 
but I did not feel cold evidently, because it was after a good run which both of us had 
enjoyed before. I was in a perfect mood. There was a feeling of some kind of lightness 
and the sensation was not only in my physical body but somewhere inside me. 

Everything started when I felt something on my hip was nipping, biting or pinching me. I 
lifted my head and looked, there were some kind of bugs, ants and a beetle on my leg and 
hip. I swung my arm to smash them off but did not have time enough to do it as Anastasia 
intercepted my hand. 

“Don’t touch them”, she said. 

Then she stood on her knees before me, bent over and pressed my other hand to the 
ground. I was lying on the ground as if I had been crucified. I tried my best to get free but 
alas, I realized that it was absolutely impossible. Then I pushed with all my might but she 
was retaining me easily and while doing it she was even smiling. I was feeling the 
increasing sensation of crawling, bilking, biting and pinching all over me and my 
conclusion was that they had started to eat me. I was in her hands in the literal and 
figurative sense of the words so I was trying my best to appraise the situation. “Well, 
nobody knows where I am, nobody will drop in here by accident and if somebody would 
happen to come, they could see only my picked bones if there were any left”. Many other 
thoughts crossed my troubled mind within a moment. 

Evidently, they were the reason why my instinct of self-preservation prompted the only 
one possible solution at that time. So, I applied all my strength and desperately clenched 
with my teeth her unprotected breast. While doing it I started to move my head from side 
to side. As soon as Anastasia screamed from pain I unclenched my teeth. She set me free, 
jumped up, pressing her one hand against her breast and waving with the other one. This 
was raised up and she was trying to keep smiling. I jumped up also and shouted 
feverishly shaking off all those crawling creatures. I produced a howl of despair: 

“You wanted to feed me to the skunks, you forest witch, but I am not going to yield to 
you so easily!” 

Anastasia continued waving her hand and forcing tier-self to smile at the watchful 



surrounding. She glanced at me and slowly, not running as usual, went to the lake with 
her head drooped. 

For a while I was pondering what to do. I wondered whether to go back to the steamboat, 
and how would I find my way to it? “Should I follow her, but what for?” 

So, I went to the lake. Anastasia was sitting by the water, rubbing in her palms some kind 
of herb and rubbing its juice into the injured spot on her breast where one could see a 
huge black and blue spot, the result of my bite. I stayed for a while marking time near her 
in silence and then asked, “Does it hurt?” Without turning her head she said, “I would 
rather say that it pains me”. 

She continued to rub in the herb's juice. 

“Why did you decide to play this trick on me?”, I asked. “I wanted to do the best of my 
ability. Your skin's pores are completely blocked. They don't breath. The tiny bugs could 
clean them; it is not painful at all, rather, it is pleasant”. 

“What about the snake, it was sticking its forked tongue in my foot?” 

“It was not doing any harm to you and if it did let its poison out, it would be only on the 
surface of your skin and I could rub it in right away. The muscles and the skin on your 
heel are growing numb”. 

“Well, it is the result of the accident I've been involved in”. I commented. For a while we 
were quiet. Then feeling ill at ease without even realizing what I was saying, I asked, 
“Well, why didn't He help you? Well, I mean somebody invisible as it had happened 
before when I had lost consciousness” 

“He did not help because I was smiling. Even when you were biting me I was trying to 
smile”. 

I felt a kind of shame for my behavior. I gripped the bunch of the herbs which was near 
by, vigorously crushed them in my palms, kneeled before her and started to rub the black 
and blue spot with my wet palms. 



Chapter 30 


DREAMS-FUTURE CREATION 


Now having learned about Anastasia's feelings and her desire to prove that she was a 
natural and regular human being, though seeming to be non ordinary from my own 
perspective, I have realized what kind of pain I had caused her soul that morning. I 
apologized again and Anastasia answered that she was not angry. Although she was 
worried about me because of everything she had done for me. 

“What is it so terrible that you could have done to me?”, I asked her and again she told 
me a story which a person who would like to look as normal as everybody living in our 
world, would never reproduce in earnest. 

“Well, when your steamboat left”, Anastasia proceeded, “and the local youths went to the 
village, I stayed for a while on the shore all by myself and I felt very well. Then I ran 
away into my forest. The next day went by as usual and in the evening when the stars 
came out in the sky, I lay down on the grass and started my dreaming and it happened 
exactly at that time when the plan of mine had been formed as it was”. 

“Now what? What kind of "plan"?” 

“You see, what I know, different people of the world you belong to also know. Although 
they know it in parts but all together they know almost everything but the bottom line is 
that they don't understand the mechanism up to the end. So, I started to dream that you 
would come into a big city and tell many people about me and everything I had explained 
and am going to tell. 

You would accomplish it the way you usually spread all kinds of information in your 
world. Yes you would write a book. Many people would read the book and the truth 
would open slightly. They would reduce their sicknesses, change their attitude towards 
children and work out new methods of teaching and education. People would start to love 
everything and everybody more and eventually the Earth would emanate more light 
energy. 

Artists would paint my portraits and it could be the best they had ever done before. I 
would try my best to inspire them. They would produce the thing you call "cinema" and it 
would be the most wonderful film that had ever been created. It would bring memories of 
me while you watch it. Many scholars would be attracted to you, those, who can 



understand and appreciate everything I have said to you. Moreover, they would explain to 
you a lot which you can't embrace right now. You would trust them more than you do me 
and you would realize that I am not a kind of witch but a regular human being only more 
informed than other people. 

The things you are going to write about would arouse great interest and it would make 
you rich. You would have bank accounts in 19 countries of your world. You would visit 
the holy places which would help you to get purified from the darkness that dwells in 
you. You would keep gour memory of me. You would fall in love with me and the desire 
to see your son and me again would come to you. My dream was very bright and vivid 
and, yes, maybe it was a bit pleading... Evidently, it was the reason why everything had 
happened exactly that way. 

They have accepted it as an apian for action and made a decision to transfer people over 
the space of time of the dark forces. 

It is acceptable if the detailed plan is being born on the Earth in the soul and mind of an 
earthly man. Evidently, they had perceived this plan as a great one or maybe they added 
to it something of their own. That is why the dark forces have activated their activities to 
such a great extent. 

It had never happened before. I have realized it only through the Ringing Cedar. It's beam 
became a great deal thicker. Now it is vibrating stronger as it rushes to give it's light, it's 
energy away”. 

I was listening to Anastasia and at that moment the thought that she was a crazy one was 
growing inside me, getting stronger and stronger: “Well, who knows, maybe long ago she 
had escaped from some kind of a hospital for the mentally sick. Now she is living here in 
this forest and moreover I had sexual intercourse with her. As a result of it a child can be 
brought into the world... Isn't it something!”... 

However watching her speaking seriously and emotionally I did my best to calm her 
down by saying: 

“Don’t you worry, Anastasia, your plan is wittingly unrealizable and that's why there is no 
need for the Light and Dark forces to fight. As a matter of fact nowadays they publish 
plenty of books but even the works of famous writers are not in great demand. I am not a 
writer anyhow and, to begin with, I have no talent for writing at all. Nor do I have any 
ability and special education and this is the bottom line”. 

“That's right, everything you have mentioned you did not have before but now you have 
got it”, she replied. 

“All right”, I was trying to comfort her by saying, “suppose I do try but nobody will 
publish my stuff, they will not believe in your existence” 


“But I do exist. I exist for those for whom I exist. They will believe and help you in 



exactly the same way I am going to help them later on”. 


At that time I did not realize the meaning of her words and I was trying my best to calm 
her down again and again: 

“But I am not going to try to write anything. Try to understand that there is not any sense 
in it, that's it”. 

“But, you will! It is evident that they have already created the whole system of 
circumstances which will force you to do it”. 

“Am I a tiny screw in somebody's hands according to you?” 

“You know, a lot depends also on you. The Dark Forces will try their best to interfere and 
to prevent you from accomplishing everything you are supposed to do. They may push 
you hard even to suicide by creating an illusion of hopelessness”. 

“It’s enough, Anastasia, I am bored to death with listening to your fantasies”. 

“Do you consider it to be fantasies?” 

“Yes, yes, I do! Fantasies...”. And at that point I had to stop short. 

A thought had flashed in my head commeasuring time and I realized, — everything 
Anastasia was telling me about her dreams and her son she had conceived in her mind a 
year ago. She did it when I did not know her as much as I do now. Here you are, a year 
later it has happened. 

“So, does it mean that everything is interconnected with what is happening now?”, I 
asked her. 

“Of course. If it was not because of them and a little bit of my efforts too, your second 
expedition would never be possible. As you know, you could hardly manage to make 
ends meet after your first voyage and to add to it you had no rights to the steamboat”. 

“Does it mean that you had influenced the steamship line and the firms which were 
involved?” 

“Yes, it does”. 

“You know, you have ruined me and caused great damage to them. What kind of right do 
you have to interfere like that? Now here I am, I have left my steamboat again because of 
messing with you. Maybe right now they are robbing me in every possible way. Evidently 
you have a kind of power to hypnotize people or, even worse, you are a witch. That's it!” 

“I have never done anything wrong to anybody and moreover, I just can't do it. I am a 
human being! If you are worried so much about material well being and money, you 



should just wait a while and everything will come back to you. I am sorry. I feel guilty 
towards you because I have dreamed that way. I dreamed that you would have a hard 
time for a while but at that very time I could think of nothing else. You don’t accept logic. 
You have to be forced by your world life circumstances”. 

“Here it is! 'To be forced", that's it! It is you who is forcing me and you are trying to 
pretend to be a regular human being”. 

“I am a human being, a woman!”, Anastasia was excited and it was evident when she 
exclaimed, “I have always wanted only good and light. It is my only wish. I wanted you 
to get purified. That's the way I had modelled that you would visit the holy, secret places 
and write a book. They have accepted it. The Dark Forces have been always lighting 
them though they never managed to win with the main things”. 

“What about you, Anastasia? Are you going to keep aside, to be just an observer having 
all this intellect, information and energy of yours?” 

“At such an extent of opposition of two great sources the effect of my effort is going to 
be insignificant. The help from other people of your world is required. I shall be looking 
for them and I am going to find them. I am positive. I'll do it the same way as I had done 
it before, when you were staying at the hospital. Only you, yourself should acquire more 
awareness. Let it be just a little bit at least Try to overcome all evils inside you”. 

“Now what? Will you specify? What is evil inside me? What was I doing wrong while at 
the hospital? How could you heal me being far away from me at that time?” 

“You simply did not feel my presence but I was near you. When I was on the steamboat, I 
had a small twig of the Ringing Cedar which my mama had broken before she perished... 
I left it in your cabin. You had already been sick at that time. I felt it. Do you remember 
the twig?” 

“Yes, I do”, I answered. 

It was true, the twig was hanging in my cabin for a long time, many people of my crew 
saw it; I brought it to Novosibirsk but I never attached any importance toil 

“You simply have thrown it away”. 

“But I did not know”. 

“Yes, you are right. You did not know... You have thrown it away... My mama's twig did 
not manage to overcome all your sic kn ess. Then you got to the hospital. Just try to recall 
and look very carefully through the report of your sickness. The report reads that in spite 
of applying the most powerful medication there was no improvement in your case. After 
that they gave you a cedar oil injection. The doctor who was following very strictly all 
required procedures should never have done it. She has done something that does not 
exist in any of your medical journals. In general it had never been done before. Do you 



remember it?” 


“Yes, I do”. 

“The lady doctor”, continued Anastasia, “who was healing you was the head of a 
department of one of the best hospitals in your city. That department had nothing to do 
with the disease you had. She accepted you though the department which was supposed 
to 

treat that kind of disease was on the next floor of the same building. Am I right?” 

“Yes, you are”. 

“She was applying the needles to you while nice music was on. The room was half 
darkened. Anastasia described everything exactly the way it had happened to me at that 
time”. 

“Do you remember that woman?” 

“Sure, I do. She was the head of the department of the former regional hospital”. 

All of a sudden looking at me seriously Anastasia said some phrases which produced a 
shocking effect on me. It made me feel creepy all over my body. 

“What kind of music do you like?... All right... Is it good? Isn't it too loud?”, Anastasia 
was speaking exactly the way the lady doctor had spoken to me, -the same voice, the 
same intonations... It was amazing! 

“Anastasia!”, I exclaimed. 

She cut me short saying, “For God's sake, listen to me and don't be surprised. Will you, 
please, try! Try to realize, after all, what I am saying to you. Will you try to mobilize your 
mind just a bit at least”. 

Then she continued: “That lady doctor was very nice. She is a real doctor. It was very 
easy for me to work with her. She is kind and candid. It was I who did not want you to be 
moved to another department, though her department did not correspond to the type of 
disease you had. She asked her bosses, "Let him, please, stay here, I'll heal him”. Because 
she simply knew that she could. She also knew that your weak spots were the result of 
something else, there was more to it. She was trying her best to fight that "something 
else". She is a real doctor. Look at yourself. How did you behave?! You did not only 
smoke, you were drinking spirits as much as you wished. You used spices, pickles and all 
that was while you were suffering a very severe ulcer. You refused nothing, no 
restrictions "enjoying yourself. 

Somewhere in your subconscious mind a fearless idea was trapped that nothing would 
happen to you. You even did not realize it in your consciousness. I did nothing good but 



rather vice versa. The darkness in your consciousness was not reduced. The awareness 
and will power did not increase. When you were at last safe and sound you sent your 
greetings on the occasion of a holiday through your lady coworker to the woman who had 
saved your life... Although, you know, she was waiting your call, she had fallen in love 
with you just like...”. 

“Had she or you, Anastasia?” 

“We had, if it is more clear to you”. 

I stood up and without realizing it made a couple of steps away from Anastasia who was 
sitting on a fallen tree. My thoughts and feelings were messed up and it made my 
uncertainty towards her grow even more. 

“Here you are! Again you don't understand how I had managed to do it. You are getting 
scared and it is so simple to guess just using your imagination and precise analysis of 
possible situations. Again you were thinking about me...”. She became quiet bending her 
head over her knees. 

I was standing silently thinking to myself: “Why does she keep speaking about all kind of 
incredible things. While speaking she is getting upset because 

they are incomprehensible? Evidently she does not realize that any normal man would 
never understand them and therefore she also will never be accepted as a normal human 
being”. 

Then I came to her, parted her falling locks away from her large blue-gray eyes and saw 
the drops of tears rolling down her cheeks. She smiled and uttered a phrase which was 
not characteristic others. 

“A woman is a woman, isn't she? Now you are startled to doubt my existence as a fact 
and, as they put it in your language, you can't believe your eyes. 

You absolutely don't believe me. You can't realize what I am saying to you. The fact of 
my existence, my abilities and aptitudes seem astonishing to you. You have stopped 
perceiving me as a normal human being but I am, trust me! I am a human and not a kind 
of witch. 

Why does it not seem to you as astonishing and paradoxical that people have recognized 
and accepted the Earth as a cosmic body? It is the greatest creation of the Highest Mind, 
every mechanism of which is the greatest achievement of His. 

Now this mechanism is being tormented and the people are creating a tremendous 
amount of effort to break it down. You take for granted a handmade spaceship or an 
airplane but all these mechanics have been made of broken and melted parts of the 
greatest mechanism. 



Can you imagine a creature which is breaking an airplane in flight just to make a regular 
hammer or scraper of its parts. It is getting very proud of itself when it manages to make 
a primitive tool. Poor thing, 

it does not realize that it is impossible to break a flying aircraft without limits. Well, 
really! Why don't you understand that it is impossible to torment the Earth like that. 

A computer is an achievement of the human mind but there are few people who can even 
suspect that a computer can be compared to a prosthetic appliance of a human brain. Can 
you imagine what could happen to a man if he uses crutches while his own legs are in 
good shape? No doubt that the muscles of his legs will become atrophied. A machine will 
never surpass a human brain if it was trained constantly...”. 

She wiped a rolling tear from her cheek with her palm and continued setting forth her 
incredible conclusions. At that time I could not even assume that everything she had said 
would agitate many people. She would stir up the minds of scientists and even if it were 
taken as a hypothesis it would have no analogies in the known world. 

According to Anastasia, the Sun is a kind of a mirror. It reflects the radiation coming 
from the Earth which is invisible to regular vision. Actually this radiation is coming from 
the people who are experiencing joy or any other light feelings. Being reflected from the 
Sun it returns back to Earth as sunlight giving life to everything earthly Anastasia's 
speech is full of proofs and examples though it is not very easy to understand them. 

“If the Earth and other planets would only consume sunlight benevolence”, she said, 
“then, inevitably, it would have to fade away, burning unevenly and its luminescence 
could not be uniform. A unilateral process does not exist in the Universe, it could not 
exist as everything is interconnected” 

Then she quoted from the Bible: “... and the life was the light of the men...”. Anastasia 
also stated that one man’s feelings, after being reflected from cosmic bodies are being 
transmitted to another one. 

She tried to prove it by examples: 

“Nobody among earthly people can deny the feeling anyone is experiencing when being 
loved. This sensation can be felt even more when you are near the person who loves you. 
You call it "intuition". But in reality a loving person is illuminating invisible waves of 
light. Though when the person is not by your side, if his love is strong enough it also can 
be sensed. With the help of this feeling and moreover, when you understand its origin, it 
is possible to perform miracles. It is exactly the thing which you call "miracles, 
mysticism, extraordinary abilities". Now, tell me, do you feel a little bit better in my 
company? Well, somehow easier or warmer?” 

“Yes, I do”, I answered. 


“Now watch, what is going to happen to you when I concentrate on you even more”, she 



said. 


Anastasia lowered her eyelashes, made a couple of steps backward and stopped. A very 
pleasant warmth started flowing all over my body. The sensation was growing. Although 
it burned, it did not make me hot. Anastasia turned and slowly moved away. Then she 
disappeared behind a thick trunk of a high tree. Yet the sensation of the pleasant warmth 
flowing on me did not diminish and even a new one appeared as if something was 
helping my heart to 

stimulate the blood to flow in my veins. With each beating of the heart the sensation was 
as if the blood streams were reaching each tiny vessel of my body within a moment. My 
feet were sweating a lot and became wet. 

“Well, do you see now? Do you understand everything?” asked Anastasia coming out 
from behind the tree with the triumphant look of a conqueror being absolutely confident 
as if she had managed to prove something to me. 

“You were feeling everything, weren't you, when I was behind the trunk? Your sensations 
had become even stronger when you did not see me, hadn't they? Go ahead, tell me about 
them!” 

I told her and asked in my turn what the tree trunk could prove... 

“You see, before, the light and information waves were moving from me to you directly. 
When I disappeared the trunk of the tree had to distort my waves greatly as it has the 
information and illumination of its own. It did not happen. The waves of feelings were 
coming to you after being reflected from cosmic bodies. To add more to that, they were 
even reinforced. Then I did something that you may call a "miracle". Your feet became 
sweaty, didn't they? Why didn’t you tell me about it?” 

“As a matter of fact, I did not pay attention to it. What kind of miracle could it be when 
your feet are sweating? What is special about it?” 

“I have pushed toxins out of your organism through your feet, a lot of junk and 
sicknesses. You should feel a lot better now. Anyone can tell that your round — 
shoulderedness reduced signifi-cantly”. 

To tell the truth, I felt much better around the shoulders. So I asked her, “Does it mean 
that when you concentrate, thinking of something then your wish comes true?” 

“Well, something like that”. 

“Does it always work even when you are dreaming about something else besides 
healing?” 

“Always! If my dream is not an abstract one. It should always be specified, worked out in 
detail up to the smallest events, very precisely and without any contradiction to the 



spiritual laws of existence... You know, this kind of dream is not always possible to 
create. It is required that a thought should rush very fast and at the same time the 
vibration of feelings should satisfy the specific requirements. Then it will be incarnated 
for sure. It is natural and it happens very often in regular life with many people. Ask your 
friends. Maybe among them there are those who had dreams and their dreams became 
true completely or partially “. 

“"Working out the details... The thoughts should fly..." Will you tell me, please, when you 
were dreaming about poets, artists and the book, did you work out everything in detail? 
Did your thoughts fly?” 

“Yes, extremely fast. Everything was specified, worked out in details even trifles, very 
scrupulously” 

“Now, do you believe that it will come true?” 

“It will come true, I am absolutely positive about it”. 

“Did you dream about anything else at that time? Have you told me everything about 
your dreaming?” 

“No, I did not tell you everything about my dream”. 

“Why don't you tell me everything?” 

“You... Do you want to listen to me, Vladimir? Am I right?” 

“Yes, I do. Go ahead”. 

Anastasia's face was lit up, as if it was illuminated with a ray of light. She produced her 
incredible monologue with great emotion and inspiration. 



Chapter 31 


ACROSS THE SPACE OF TIME 
OF THE DARK FORCES 


The space occupied by the negative thoughts created by people during the whole 
history of their existence. Later on Anastasia will explain: “Any thought which is 
created by Man doesn 't disappear into nowhere ” (Comment by the translator). 


“During that night of dreaming I was thinking how to transfer people across the space 
of time of the dark forces”, started Anastasia. “My plan and awareness were so real and 
efficient that they had accepted it. 

The book you are going to write will contain non obtrusive word combinations and 
formulas so that they will stir up the great majority of people. They will waken up their 
light and kind feelings. These types of feelings are able to suppress physical and 
emotional sicknesses. They will stimulate the birth of a new consciousness which will be 
the distinctive features of the people of the future. Believe me, Vladimir, it is not a 
mysticism, it agrees with Universal laws. 

Everything is so simple. You will be writing this book being guided exclusively by your 
feelings and listening to your soul. This is the only possible way for you as you have 
never mastered the art of writing. 

Everything is possible with feelings. These feelings are already inside you. They are 
yours and mine too. 

Although, they are not yet realized by you now, they will be understood by a lot of 
people. Being embodied into signs and combinations they are going to become stronger 
than Zoroastrian's Fire. You should hide nothing of what is going to happen to you even 
those secret. Get yourself emancipated from any shame and fear. Don’t be afraid to look 
funny. Your should suppress your arrogance. 

I have opened myself to you completely: my body and soul. I belong to you. Now let me 
open myself to all people through you because they have allowed me to do it. I know that 
a huge amount of dark forces are going to attack me. They will resist my dreams coming 
true but I am not afraid of them; I am stronger than they are and I will live to see 
everything I have conceived in my mind happening: to give birth to my son and bring 



him up, our son, Vladimir. 


My dream will break many mechanisms of the dark forces which were influencing people 
in pernicious ways for many millennia. It will make many of them start working for the 
good of mankind. 

I know you can't believe me right now as all kinds of conventions and postulates are 
blocking you. They were implanted in your mind by the conditions of the life style of the 
world you belong to. You consider the time transference as an impossible reality. Your 
notions and ideas about time and space are conditional. Only the degree of willpower and 
awareness can characterize its quantity, not "seconds" and "meters". 

The purity of intentions, feelings and sensations, which should be characteristic features 
of the great majority of people, determines the location point in Time and in the Universe. 

You believe in horoscopes, in, your absolute dependence on the planetary positions. This 
belief has been achieved with the help of the dark forces' mechanisms. This very faith is 
an obstacle which is hampering the time of the parallel of light giving the opportunity for 
the dark one to come forward and to change their quantity. This faith leads you away 
from realizing the Truth, the essence of your earthly existence. You are trying to analyze 
everything very carefully. Just think, Man was created by God in His image and likeness. 
Man has been given a great freedom, the freedom to chose between darkness and light. A 
soul has been given to man. Everything visible is under Man's power and he is free even 
with respect to God Himself: to love or not to love Him. Nobody and nothing can control 
man but his own will. God wants nothing from man but love in response to His great 
love. Although God wants the love of a free man. He wants the love of a perfect man, just 
like He Himself is. He needs a companion, not a slave. 

God has created everything visible including the planets. They serve to provide order and 
harmony in everything living: plants, the animal world. They exist only to help the 
human flesh but they are absolutely powerless with respect to man's soul and mind. It is 
not they who are directing man but man through his subconscious is ruling all the planets. 

If only one man decides that he wants a second sun to appear in the sky, it would never 
happen. It has been organized this way to prevent planetary catastrophes. If people all 
together express a desire for a second sun, — it will appear!... 

While compiling a horoscope one should take into consideration the main values: the 
level of the person's time awareness, willpower and the power of her spirit, the soul's 
striving and the degree of its participation in the moment of today's presence. 

They can easily conquer beneficial and non beneficial days, magnetic storms, high and 
low pressure; willpower and awareness. 

Really, didn't you see a happy and joyous man even when the weather is nasty or vice 
versa, a sad and depressed one on a sunny and most benevolent day? 



Do you think that I am letting my imagination carry me away as a crazy person when I 
am talking about the word combinations and formulas of letters which are going to heal 
and enlighten people? You don't trust me because you don’t understand... Really, it is so 
simple. 

Right now I am speaking your language using your patterns of speech and sometimes I 
am even trying to use your intonation. It will be easy for you to memorize everything I 
have said because it is your native language which is characteristic of you only and it is 
understood by many people. It does not contain incomprehensible words, rarely used 
turns of speech in regular everyday communication. It is very simple and that's why it is 
understandable to the great majority of people. Although I am changing a bit, well, 

in a certain way I am replacing some words just slightly. Now I see that you are in a state 
of excitement. That's why in the future on recalling this state you will recall everything I 
have told you. You will write it down. This way my combinations of letters will get into 
your writings, everything you are going to write. 

These combinations are very important They can perform miracles exactly the way a 
prayer does. 

Many of you already know that prayers are definite combinations and matches of letters. 
These combinations and matches have been built up by enlightened people with God's 
help. 

The dark forces were always striving to take away from man the possibility of using the 
benevolence which comes from these combinations. Because of this they even changed 
languages introducing new words to replace the old ones, twisting their essential 
meanings. For instance, long, long ago your language had 47 letters and now there are 
only 36 left. They introduced absolutely different combinations and formulas of their 
own, agitating brutish and dark instincts. They always tried to carry people away by 
carnal desires and passions. 

I have transferred the primordial combinations from the Sources, activated them, using 
modern letters and symbols. Now they will act. I tried so hard to find the right ones and I 
have managed to do it. I have collected the best ones from different times and there are a 
lot of them. I have installed and concealed them in what you are going to write. 

As you see, it is simply an interpretation of the combinations of symbols of the depth of 
Cosmic infinity and eternity/which are precise in sense andgoals. 

You should write about everything you have seen, hiding nothing, — neither bad nor 
good nor secret and they will be preserved. 

You will be convinced of this by yourself so, please, trust me. You are going to be 
convinced as soon as you finish the book. The feelings and emotions will be provoked in 
many of those who will read your writings, though at the beginning their emotions will 
not be completely realized and comprehended by them. You'll see, they will confirm it to 



you. You'll hear that they will do it. The light feelings will come to them. Later on, many 
people will realize on their own with the help of these feelings much more than you will 
be able to write. Do write, at least a little! Then you will see that people are able to feel 
these combinations. When ten thousand, one hundred thousand people confirm it then 
you will believe and write everything. Only, you should believe. Believe in yourself. 
Believe in me. 

Later on I shall be able to speak even more meaningful things and they will understand 
and feel it. That more meaningful one is the Upbringing of Children. It was interesting 
for you to know about flying saucers and mechanisms, rockets and planets. I was very 
anxious to tell you as much as possible about the education of children and I shall do it. 

I'll tell it when I install a great awareness inside you. 

Only one should bear it in mind that it is advisable to read all these when the sounds of 
handmade, artificial mechanisms are not interfering, not with drawing your attention. 
These sounds are harmful. They are leading man away from the Truth. Let the natural 
sounds, created by God stay with you while you are reading my messages. They are 
carrying within themselves the information of Truth and Benevolence. They are helping 
the Awareness to grow too. Then the healing process would be much stronger. 

I am sure, you are full of doubts and don't believe in the healing power of the Word. You 
are thinking about me... Although in this, again, there is not any kind of mysticism, 
fantasy or contradictions to the laws of spiritual existence. When light feelings appear in 
man they start to influence beneficially upon all fleshy organs, absolutely all of them. It is 
beyond all question. Verily, the light feelings are the most powerful and effective 
remedies which can resist any sickness. God healed using these kinds of feelings. The 
saints also did the same. 

Read the Old Testament and you will see for yourself. With the help of these feelings 
some people of your world can heal too. Many of your doctors know about it. Ask them if 
you don't trust me. It is easier for you to believe them. The more powerful and brighter 
this feeling is the stronger influence it can produce upon the one to whom it is directed. 

I could always heal with my small beam. My great-grandpa taught me when I was at a 
tender age. He explained everything to me. I did it many times with my dachniks. 

Now my beam is more powerful than great-granddad's and granddad's. They have 
explained the reason why. It is the feeling which had appeared in me, the one that you 
call Love. This feeling is so great and pleasant though it bums a little. I would like to give 
it as a gift to all people and also to you. I wish everybody the best. Let everything be all 
right exactly the way God wanted everything to be. 

She delivered her monologue with extraordinary inspiration and confidence, as if she had 
launched it into space and time. Then she became quiet. I was looking at Anastasia, 
having been startled by her passion and confidence. Then I asked her, “Anastasia, is that 
all? Are there any other peculiarities in your plans? Well, I mean in your dreams?” 



“The rest are just meaningless trifles. I have produced them in passing as "twice two is 
four". Though there was only one complication concerning you I have solved it also”. 


“Right here and right now you should speak in details. Please, specify what kind of 
complications exist concerning me?” 

“You know, I have turned you into the richest man on Earth. Moreover I have made you 
the most famous too, a number one celebrity. It will happen in a while. When I was 
processing my dream, I was working it out, polishing the details... You know, before it 
took off by the light forces... The dark forces... They are always striving to introduce 
something of their own, something harmful, all kinds of their own side effects, 
influencing perniciously the person whom it concerns and other people. 

My thoughts were dashing very, very fast, but all the same the dark forces still managed 
to follow me. 

They had to leave many of their earthly things and were trying their best to activate their 
mechanisms around my dream. Then... Guess what I did? I just outwitted them and made 
all their mechanisms work for the good. The dark forces were at a loss for less than a 
moment, but it was just sufficient time for my dream to get picked up by the light forces. 
My dream speeded away into the light infinity which is unreachable for them”. 

“What have you thought of, Anastasia?” 

“Quite unexpectedly for them I prolonged the space of dark forces time during which you 
will have to overcome different hardships. To add to this I deprived myself of the 
possibility of helping you with my small beam. I tell you, they were confused a lot as 
they could see no logic on my part. Meanwhile I was directing my beam sending my light 
to the people who will associate with you in the future. I was doing it as fast as I could”. 

“What does it all mean?” 

“It means that people will help you and my dream. They will do it with the help of their 
tiny almost uncontrolled beams. There will be many of them and taken together, they and 
you will manifest the dream into material reality. You will transfer yourselves across the 
space of time of the dark forces. You will carry other people across it. And you are not 
going to be arrogant and greedy when you become rich and famous. You are going to 
realize that the main thing is not money, as you will never get the warmth and sincere 
sympathy of the human soul with money. 

You will understand all these things while passing through that space of time. This is 
when you will see and meet those people. They also will understand it. As far as the 
making of curtseys... Your interrelations with banks I have thought up just because you 
absolutely neglect your body. This way you will at least exercise a little before you get 
money in the bank. Some of the bankers will do it too, which is beneficial for both sides. 
Let it look a bit funny, but in exchange you will get rid of sinful arrogance. 



The result is that all difficulties and obstacles which had been created by the dark forces 
during their space of time are going to temper you and the people around you too. It will 
be making you more and more aware. Later on they will save you from the dark 
temptations for which the dark forces are very proud. Their own actions will save you. 
That was why they had been messed up for a bit of a moment. From now on they will 
never manage to catch up with my dream”. 

“Oh, Anastasia! You are my dear dreamer, my visionary”. 

“Oh! How wonderful you've done it. Thanks! Thank you. You have said it so nice, "My 
dear"“. 

“You are welcome. I've also called you a "visionary" and a "dreamer". Do you felt 
offended?” 

“Not at all. You don't know yet how precisely my dreams are always coming true when 
they happen to be bright and detailed. This one is going to come true for sure. I am very 
positive about it. It is my favorite and the brightest one. Your book will come out perfect. 
Non ordinary feelings will come to people and these feelings will call them towards...”. 

“Wait a minute, Anastasia, you are getting enthusiastic again. Calm down, please”. 

It was not long after I interrupted her passionate speech which seemed to be only a 
fantasy. The meaning of Anastasyia's monologue was not completely understandable to 
me at that time. Everything she said seemed to be too fantastic. Only in a year Michael 
Firnim, a reporter from the magazine Miracles & Adventures having read my manuscript 
containing this monologue, was very excited when he handed me the fresh issue of the 
magazine (May, 1996). 

I also became excited after looking through it. Two Russian scientists, academicians: 
Anatoly Akimov and Vlayil Kaznacheyev spoke in their articles about the existence of 
the Highest Mind. They spoke about close interconnection between man and the Cosmos, 
about invisible rays coming from man. These rays had been traced and tracked by special 
kinds of instruments. Two photos depicting these rays which come from people were also 
in that issue. 

However, official science has only started to speak about something that Anastasia had 
not only known about since her childhood, but had been effortlessly using in her 
everyday life, trying to help people. 

How could I know a year ago that Anastasia, the one who was standing in front of me at 
that time, in her old and only skirt, wearing those clumsy galoshes, being nervous and 
fingering the buttons of her hand knitted jacket, could possess colossal knowledge and 
ability to influence peoples' destinies. Her soul impulses really could resist everything 
which is dark 


and pernicious for humankind and later on the famous Russian folk healer, the chairman 



of the Healers of Russia Foundation, V. A. Mironov would call his staff together and tell 
them: “We are all bugs in front of each other”. Then he would add that the world had yet 
never known any one as powerful as she was. He would be sorry for me because I had 
not been able to understand her and realize what she really was for such a long time. 
What a shame! 

Many people will feel the energy which is coming from the book. The poems will pour 
like a spring rain, washing away the mud, right after the first small edition of the book. 
She is the author of it as well as me. Now, dear reader. You are holding in your hands this 
book. You are reading it. Whether it wakes up any feelings in your soul, it is up to you to 
decide. What do you feel? What is it calling to you? 

Anastasia alone, over there, in the taiga, on her clearing will persistently, using her tiny 
beam of kindness scatter all obstacles away from the highway all other dreams. She will 
be putting together and inspiring more and more people to her dream. 

So it will happen that three Moscovite students will stand by my side at the moment of 
hardship. Without being rewarded for their work and moreover even helping me 
materially. Trying to get any kind of extra job, wherever they could, especially Alyosha 
Novichkov. They will type the text of this book on their computers by night. They will 
not stop doing it even during the most difficult time for them, the period of tests and 
examinations. 

The book will be published by the Moscow Printing House #11, edition of two thousand 
copies. They will do it passing the publishing house test. Even before that a lady 
journalist Evgueniya Kvitko from the farmers' newspaper Krestyanskiye Vedomosty 
(Peasants " Gazette) will be the first to tell about Anastasia in the press. Then Katya 
Golovina from Moskovskaya Pravda (Moscow Truth), then Lesnaya Gazeta (Forest 
Newspaper), MirNovosty (World News) and the radio of Russia. Miracles and 
Adventures, where famous leading lights of academic science are usually published, by 
ignoring their tradition would dedicate to Anastasia several issues reading the following: 

"In their most audacious dreams our academicians are not reaching Anastasia's 
enlightenment. She is a wonderful enchantress from the Siberian taiga. The purity of his 
intentions makes Man an omnipotent and an omniscient being. Man is the summit of 
Creation. 

Only the prominent Moscow press will publish Anastasia. As if Anastasia herself were 
selecting them passing over the gutter press, carefully guarding over the purity other 
dream's intentions. Although all these have become evident only a year after I met her, at 
first I did not understand her. Having a lot of doubts and with my peculiar attitude 
towards everything which was happening, 1 tried to change the topic of our talks to the 
one which was more familiar to me, — entrepreneurs. 



Chapter 32 


POWERFUL PEOPLE 


The highest estimation of your personality is the one given to you by the surrounding 
people. 

She spoke a lot about the people whom we call "entrepreneurs". She spoke about their 
influence upon the spirituality of our society. Then picked up a twig and drew a circle on 
the ground. Inside the circle she drew a lot of smaller ones putting dots inside them. Then 
she depicted other circles around the first one. It was a kind of a planetary map inside the 
terrestrial world. She added a lot of different things to it and said: 

“The big circle is the Earth, the planet of the people. Small circles are small people 
collectives which are somehow interconnected. The dots represent the people who are at 
the head of these collectives. The way these leaders treat the people, what they make 
them do, what kind of psychological climate they create using their influence, — all these 
things, will determine whether it is good or bad for the surrounding people. If the great 
majority of people feel good then everyone produces light illumination and when they are 
all taken together as a whole, produce a nice light illumination. If it is bad, — it gets 
dark”. 

She shaded some circles, making them look dark, then proceeded: 

“Sure, there are many other factors which also influence people's inner state but during 
that very space of time when they belong to that community the main factor is their 
relationship with the one who is at the head of them. It is very important for the Universe 
that only light radiation could come from the Earth as a whole; the radiation of love and 
goodness. The Bible reads: "God is Love" 

I am sorry, very sorry for the people whom you call "entrepreneurs" as they are the most 
miserable ones. I wish I could help them a lot, but it is hard for me to do it on my own”. 

“You are wrong, Anastasia. In our society the pensioners are considered to be the most 
miserable ones. The people who are unable to find a job, provide themselves with proper 
dwelling, food and clothes, to pay their living are the most miserable. An entrepreneur is 
a man who has all these things to a greater degree than the rest of the people. He can 
afford some pleasures which many people can't even dream about”. 

“Like what? Give me an example, please, will you?” 



“Well, if you take just an average entrepreneur, he has a modem car, a nice apartment or a 
house and as far as food and clothes are concerned, there is no problem at all...”. 

“And what about joy? What does he find satisfaction in? Look! I'll show it to you”. 

Anastasia carried me along again to the grass and, the way she did before when she was 
showing me a woman dachnitsa, she started to show me different pictures. 

“Here, do you see it? Here, he is sitting in the car which you call a luxurious one. Do you 
see him? He is alone on the back seat. A micro climate is being contained inside the car. 

A driver is behind the wheel. He is driving very smoothly. Look at the boss. Do you see 
how strained and thoughtful his face is? He is thinking hard, creating some kind of 
projects. He is afraid of something. Just watch. Now he has gripped a thing which you 
call a "telephone". He is troubled... Well, he has got some information... Now he has to 
evaluate it very quickly and make a decision. He is all strained... He is thinking. He is 
ready. The decision has been made. Now watch, watch: he looks quiet but on his face one 
can read doubt and anxiety. There is no joy at all”. 

“Well, this is work, Anastasia”. 

“This is a way of life and there is no break in it from the moment of his awakening in the 
morning till he falls asleep. Even during his sleep he is not free. He can see neither the 
newly arrived leaves in the trees nor the joyous spring brooks... He is surrounded only by 
ever envious people who are eager to take possession of everything he has. Trying to 
protect himself from them with, as you call it "security". To turn a house into a castle 
does not really bring complete peace as the fear and worries never leave him and so on 
and so forth till he comes at last to the very end of his life. The feeling of regret embraces 
him because he has to leave everything...”. 

“An entrepreneur has his joys. They come to him when he achieves a desirable result, 
accomplishes his project. It is the joy of fulfilment. 

“It is not true. He has no time to enjoy anything he achieves because a new and even 
more complicated project is coming to replace the previous one and everything begins all 
over again though with greater difficulties” 

The forest beauty was depicting for me a very gloomy and sad picture of a rather 
successful, if to look at it externally, layer of our society and I did not feel like accepting 
it as a true one. I made a remark as a disproving argument: 

“Anastasia, you forget to mention their ability to achieve the desired goal and get the 
good things of life. For instance, he gets the admiring looks of women, who adore this 
kind of man and respect on the part of the surrounding people”. Her response was: 

“Illusion! Maya! None of these exist. Tell me, where did you see a respectful or an 
admiring look of a person who is gazing at the passenger of a splendid car or an owner of 
a most expensive house? There is no man who would agree with you. Those are the gazes 



which are full of envy, carelessness and irritation. Even women are not able to love these 
people because their feeling gets mixed up with the desire to take possession of not only 
that very man himself but everything he has. In their turn these men are not able to love a 
woman properly as they can't afford to leave enough space for such a great feeling”. 

There was no sense in arguing, trying to find more proofs, as everything she had said 
could be proved or rejected only by those about whom she was speaking. Being an 
entrepreneur myself, I had never had an opportunity to stop and think over the subject 
Anastasia had touched. I had never analyzed the duration of my joy and moreover I could 
not do it concerning somebody else. Somehow we are not used to complaining and 
snivelling in our midst. Each of us is trying to portray himself as a successful 
businessman who is quite content with his life. Evidently therefore the image of a man 
who is getting only good things from life has been adopted by the great majority of 
people. 

Anastasia could sense not only the outer manifestation of feelings but even more delicate 
ones which are hidden deep down inside us. She was determining a person's state by the 
quantity of light radiating from him. To my mind the pictures and situations which she 
had seen, I was able to see through her voice. I told Anastasia about it. She responded: 

“I'll help you, just a minute. It's so simple. You just close your eyes. Lie down on the 
grass. Put your arms aside and you must relax. Mentally visualize the Earth as a whole, 
try to see its color and blueish luminescence which is coming from the planet. Then start 
to make the beam of your imagination narrow. Only now don’t embrace the Earth as a 
whole any more but make it more and more narrow till you see specific details. Look for 
the people over there where the blueish light is more intensive. The people are there. You 
try to make your beam even more narrow and then you will see one or a couple of 
persons. Let's try again with my help”. 

She took my hand placing her fingers against mine and touching my palm with hers. Her 
other hand was lying in the grass with the palm facing upwards. I did everything she told 
me to do. Using my imagination I was trying to visualize. Soon I saw a vague picture of 
three men sitting at a table talking excitedly. I couldn't understand the words, actually I 
did not hear the words. 

“No”, said Anastasia, “these are not entrepreneurs. Just a minute, we shall find them”. 

She was moving her beam getting into large and small office rooms, closed private clubs, 
parties and bordellos. Sometimes the blueish luminescence was very weak or couldn't be 
seen at all. 

“Look! It is night time over there and he is still sitting all by himself in his office room 
full of tobacco smoke. That one ,look, he is so pleased with himself, in the pool enjoying 
the company of young girls. He is intoxicated with alcohol but there is no illumination 
around him. He is just trying to forget his troubles though his self-satisfaction is 
artificial... 



This one is at home right now. Here is his wife, his child is asking him about something, 
telephone... Here he is! He is serious again even his loved ones are being moved away to 
the background...” 

Again one by one, all kinds of situations in a row were picked up. Some of them looked 
good at first glance but not really nice till at last we came across that horrifying scene. All 
of a sudden a room appeared before my vision. Evidently it was an apartment which was 
a rather respectable one, but... The next moment I saw a naked man was lying on a round 
table, his arms and legs were fastened to the table legs. His head was hanging off the 
table. His mouth was covered up with a brown plastic strip. Two young men were sitting 
at the table. One of them was solidly built with a short haircut, another one, less well 
built had smoothed down hair. 

A young woman was sitting in an armchair away from the table under a standard 
lampshade. Her mouth was glued up too. Under her breast there was a flex linen rope 
fastening her to the armchair. Her feet were fastened to the armchair’s legs. She was 
wearing only torn underwear. An elderly, slim man was sitting near her drinking 
something, evidently it was cognac. On a small table in front of him there was a box of 
chocolates. 

Those who were sitting at the big round table, were not drinking. They were pouring on 
their victim's chest some kind of alcohol or vodka and then they were setting it on fire. “It 
is a kind of "gaining an understanding' 44 , 1 told to myself. 

Anastasia moved her beam away from that scene, but I exclaimed, “Come back! Do 
something!” She brought the scene back again and answered, “There is no way to do 
anything. Everything has already happened. It is impossible to stop it. It was necessary to 
do something before. Now it is late”. 

I was looking at it as if being hypnotized and suddenly I saw the woman's eyes very close 
and so clearly. They were filled with horror and did not appeal for mercy. 

“Then, at least, do something if you are not heartless!” I screamed at the top of my voice 
at Anastasia. 

“Sorry, it is beyond my power. It has been programmed by somebody before, not by me. I 
can't interfere directly just like that. They are more powerful right now”. 

“Where has your kindness gone? Where are your great aptitudes?” 

Anastasia was silent for a while. The terrible scene faded a little. Then the elderly man 
who was drinking cognac disappeared. All of a sudden I felt weakness spreading all over 
my body and my hand, which Anastasia was touching, started to grow numb. I heard her 
weakened voice. She could hardly utter the words trying to speak, “Take away your hand, 
Vladim...” she could not even finish my name. I pulled my hand away from Anastasia 
and got up. My hand was hanging as if it was numb. The way it happens when one 
"makes it numb by sitting" ones arm or leg turned absolutely white, all over. I tried to 



move my fingers, the numbness started to leave me. 

I looked at Anastasia and was horrified by her appearance: her eyes were closed, her face 
was pale. It looked as if there was no blood left under her skin as her hands and face 
turned dead pale. She was lying as if she were breathless. The grass around her for 
approximately three meters in radius turned white and faded. 

I realized that something terrible had happened and screamed being scared to death: 

“Anastasia!”, I gripped her by the shoulders and shook her already non resilient, but 
somehow softened body. Her absolutely white, bloodless lips were motionless. 

“Do you hear me, Anastasia?” 

Her eye lashes moved a little bit and her dimmed eyes were looking at me expressing 
nothing. I gripped my flask, lifted her head and tried to give her some water but she could 
not swallow it. I was looking at her thinking feverishly what to do. At last her lips moved 
slightly and she whispered, “Take me to another place... under a tree...”. 

I picked up her limp body, carried it away from the circle with white grass and put her 
under the nearest cedar tree. After a while, very slowly she started to come to her senses 
and I asked her, “What happened to you, Anastasia?” 

“I tried to fulfill your request”, she answered in a low voice and added after a pause, “I 
guess, I've manage to do it”. 

“But you don't look well”. 

“Because I have violated the natural laws. I've interfered into something that I must not 
get into. It has drained all my power and energy. I hope that something is still left”. 

“Why did you run the risk if it was so dangerous?” 

“I did not have a choice. You wanted me to do something, didn't you? I was afraid not to 
carry out your request. As I was afraid that you would not respect me any more if I 
wouldn't do something and you would decide that I was just a chatter box who is talking 
too much about everything but in reality could do nothings Her eyes were looking at me 
with a pleading look, her low voice was trembling a bit. “I just can't explain to you how 
things get done, how this natural mechanism works. I can feel it but I can't explain it 
properly, the way you would be able to understand, evidently, your scientists will fail to 
do so also”. 

She lowered her head being quiet for a while as if she was summoning up her strength. 
She looked at me again with her pleading eyes and pronounced, “Now, even more than 
before you are going to think of me as a crazy one or a witch, aren't you?” 


All of a sudden, I was overwhelmed with a desire to do something good for her, but 



what? I wanted to say that I was thinking about her as a normal, ordinary human being, a 
beauty, a smart woman but I did not feel exactly that way. I did not feel a regular attitude 
towards her. I knew that she would sense my lie and would not trust my words because of 
that incredible and powerful intuition others. 

Then I recollected the story she had told me about her childhood, the way her great 
granddad used to greet her when visiting her. He was kneeling before her on one knee 
kissing her hand. So I kneeled to Anastasia on one knee, took her still pale and cold hand, 
kissed it and said, “If you are not normal then you are the best, the kindest, the cleverest 
and the most beautiful of all non normal ones”. 

Thank God! At last Anastasia's lips were touched by a smile. Her eyes were looking at me 
with appreciation. Her cheeks were turning pink again. 

“Anastasia, you know, the picture looked rather gloomy. Were you choosing them on 
purpose or at random?” 

“I was looking for something good but I failed to find it. They are all in the clutch of their 
troubles. They are face to face with their problems. They almost don't have a spiritual 
relationships 

“So what is it necessary to do? What can you suggest besides feeling pity for them? I 
would like to note-that they are strong people, I mean the entrepreneurs” 

“No doubt, they are very strong”, she agreed, “and they are very interesting. They are 
living two life times within one period. One is known only to them and nobody else, even 
their intimate ones. Another is an outside one for the surrounding people, a social mask. I 
guess it is possible to help them by strengthening their spiritual and sincere relationships 
with each other. An open minded striving towards the purity of thoughts is required”. 

“Anastasia, I believe I'll try my best to write a book and to organize an association of 
entrepreneurs with pure intentions but only the way I understand it”. 

“It will be difficult for you. I'll not be able to help as much as I would like to as I've got 
only a small amount of strength left inside me. It will take time to rehabilitate my power. 
For a while I'll not be able to see with my small beam at a distance. Right now I can't 
even see you properly with my regular vision”. 

“Are you getting blind, Anastasia?” 

“I think everything is going to return to normal. I am just sorry that for a while I'll not be 
able to help you”. 

“You don't need to help me. You had better try to save yourself for our son and to help 
others”. 


I had to leave to catch my steamboat. I waited till she would look better at least in her 



outward appearance. When she looked almost the way she did 

before, I got into my motorboat. Anastasia took hold of the handles at the front of the 
motorboat, pushed it off from the shore and it was picked up by the river flow. Anastasia 
was standing in the water which was almost reaching her knees. The hem of her long 
skirt was wet and swaying on the waves. I pulled the ignition rod. The motor produced a 
roaring sound tearing apart the silence which had become quite common for me during 
those three days of staying there and the motorboat rushed forward abruptly accelerating 
speed. 

Suddenly Anastasia came out of the water and ran along the bank trying to catch the 
motorboat. Her hair flying in the wind looked like the tail of a comet. She was trying to 
run as fast as she could. Evidently she was using all her strength trying to do something 
impossible, to catch a speeding motorboat. Still the distance between us was increasing 
slowly. I was sorry for her useless efforts and wishing to cut short the painful farewell 
moments so I pressed down the accelerator lever with all my might. A thought crossed 
my mind: “Maybe Anastasia may think that I was scared again and now I am trying to 
escape from her”. 

Roaring at an extreme volume the motor made the front of the motorboat move upward 
with a jerk moving forward making the distance between us increase even more... and 
she... Oh, my God! What was she doing?! — Anastasia dashed off her wet skirt which 
was preventing her from running, cast aside her torn clothes. The swiftness of her running 
increased and something unbelievable happened. The distance between her and the 
motorboat started slowly to reduce. I could see that a little bit ahead of her there was an 
almost vertical slope. 

I was still pressing the accelerator lever though it did not give way any more. I thought 
that it would help to stop her and bring that painful scene to an end. “She could not lose 
her vision to a such an extent that she was not able to see that slope”, I was thinking to 
myself. Anastasia did not slow down at all, having run up on to the top of the slope she 
fell down on her knees. She raised her arms up towards the sky with a slight bend in my 
direction and shouted. I could hear her voice through the wild roaring of the motor and 
the noise of the splashing water, it was like a whispering: 

“Sh-a-a-l-l-o-o-w wa-ter is a-h-e-a-d, sh-a-a-l-l-ow w-a-t-er, sun-ken 1-o-o-gs”. 

On turning my head very fast, without even realizing completely what was happening. I 
turned the wheel so abruptly that the motorboat rushed aside and was about to scoop up 
water over the tilted side. A huge sunken log one end of which was resting onto a sand 
bank and another one, which was hardly seen sticking out of the water, slightly struck my 
motor-boat's side. If it had been a direct blow it could easily have broken its thin 
aluminum bottom. When I had reached the river fairway I turned back towards the slope 
and whispered addressing my thanks to the lonely figure standing on her knees who was 
becoming a diminishing spot. 


“Thank you, Anastasia!” 



Chapter 33 


WHO ARE YOU. ANASTASIA? 


The steamboat was waiting for me in Surgut. The captain and crew were waiting for my 
instructions. I could not concentrate and make any definite decisions concerning our 
future route so I told them to stay in Surgut. Meanwhile I organized recreations, dancing- 
parties, exhibitions of consumer goods and services for the local population. 

My mind was processing the events connected with Anastasia. I was busy buying at the 
local book I. stores a lot of popular science literature, books about extraordinary 
phenomena and people's extraordinary abilities. Also I bought a history of that region. 
Locked in my cabin, I tried to find explanations and answers. 

Among other things I was particularly interested in: was it really possible that a feeling of 
love could be bom in Anastasia only because she was trying to help that country girl by 
shouting those words: “I love you, Vladimir”. Why had the simple words, which we 
pronounce very often without putting into them sufficient feelings and meaning, 
influenced Anastasia, in spite of our disparity in age, and the differences of our ways of 
thinking? 

Popular science literature did not give any answers to this subject. Then I took the Bible. 
And right there I found the answer, at the very beginning of the holy blessing by John it 
reads: 

“Before the world was created, the world already existed; he was with God, and he was 
the same as God. From the very beginning the world was with God. Through him God 
made all things; not one thing in all creation was made without him. The world was the 
source of life, and this life brought light to mankind...” (John 1,1-5, The Word of Life). 

Again I was startled, exactly the way it had happened many times before. How laconic 
and exact are the definitions of this amazing book! 

Everything became clear to me right away. Anastasia, for whom any kind of slyness and 
cheating are not known, can't utter a word for no particular reason. Her words came to 
my mind: “At that moment it was as if I had forgotten that I can't pronounce words for no 
particular reason at all, behind them should always stand feelings, awareness or 
trustworthiness of natural information” 



Oh, dear Lord! ! ! What bad luck she has! Why had she addressed those words to me, 
being not a young man any more, the one who has a family, liable to our world's multiple 
temptations, as she used to call them, "dark and pernicious"? With all her inner purity she 
deserves absolutely a different person. Who would fall in love with her, who is living her 
unusual life or having her uncanny intellect, or cast of mind? 

At first sight she might appear to be an ordinary one. However, she is a extraordinary 
beautiful and appealing young girl, although, still later on when one starts to 
communicate with her she turns into a kind of being who is living beyond the reach of a 
reasonable mind. 

Maybe these kinds of feelings were aroused inside me, one who does not have sufficient 
knowledge and understanding of the essence of our being. Evidently, other people would 
perceive her differently. 

I recalled that even while we were parting I did not experience any desire to kiss or hug 
her. I don't know whether she wanted it also. Generally speaking what did she really 
want? I recalled the way she was speaking about her dreams. What a strange philosophy 
of love she has: to organize an association of entrepreneurs in order to help them; to write 
a book with her advice for people; to carry people across the space of time of dark forces. 

The bottom line is that she believes it! She is one hundred percent positive that 
everything is going to happen this way. Isn't that something? ! I had given her my word to 
try to organize an association of entrepreneurs and to write a book. Evidently by now she 
is dreaming about it even more. Why has she not thought up something which is simpler 
and closer to reality? 

Some kind of a pity towards Anastasia arose inside me. I imagined her staying in her 
forest waiting and dreaming that everything would happen exactly that way in reality. It 
would be nice if she could simply be waiting for it, simply dreaming about it. What if 
she, God forbid, starts to make an attempt and direct her small beam of kindness, wasting 
a colossal amount of her soul's energy believing in something which is really impossible. 
Although she demonstrated to me the possibility of her beam, tried to explain its 
mechanism, my consciousness could not grasp it as reality. 

Dear readers, judge for yourselves. According to her she directs her small beam to a 
person, lights him with invisible light, giving as a gift her own feelings, striving for good 
and light. 

Right now I can recall her saying, “No, no, please, don't think that I am interfering with 
their psyche, trying to constrain their souls and minds. Man is free to take or reject 
anything. One can take as much as he is able to contain these feelings within oneself if, of 
course he likes them. They are to his liking. Then he becomes lighter in outward 
appearance and all kinds of diseases will start to retreat from him partially or completely. 
My granddad and great granddad can do it and I could always do it. My great granddad 
taught me while playing with me in my childhood. Now my small beam has become 
much stronger than great granddad's and granddad's ones are, as they say. It is because of 



this non ordinary feeling which has been bom in me, the one which you call Love. It is 
very bright and even burns a little. I have so much of it inside me and I wish to share it 
with everybody, to give it as a present”. 

“To whom, Anastasia?”, I asked her. 

“To you and the people, to everybody who can accept it. I wish good to everybody. I 
would like everybody to feel good. When you start to do the things I was dreaming about, 
I shall bring to you many of those people and all of you taken together...:*. 

Recalling all those things and visualizing her, I have realized all of a sudden that I just 
can't, at least not try to accomplish the things she wanted me to do. Otherwise doubts 
would torture me till the end of my life. The feeling of betrayal regarding Anastasia's 
dream is going to stay with me, though the dream seems to look very unreal but still it is 
desired by her so passionately. 

I came to that decision and the steamboat went straight ahead towards Novosibirsk. I 
asked the executive director of my firm to take care of the steamboat's unloading and 
dismantling of the exhibiting equipment. Having explained something haphazardly to my 
wife, I left for Moscow... 

I set out to Moscow to make - or at least try to make - Anastasia's dream come true. 


-to be continued 




iMMl 



English translation byjohn Woodsworth 

e Book i Anastasia 

(ISBN: 978-0-9763333-0-2) 

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Anastasia herself has stated that this book consists of words 
and phrases in combinations which have a beneficial effect on the 
reader. This has been attested by the letters received to date 
from thousands of readers all over the world. 

If you wish to gain as full an appreciation as possible of the 
ideas, thoughts and images set forth here, as well as experience 
the benefits that come with this appreciation, we recommend 
you find a quiet place for your reading where there is the least 
possible interference from artificial noises (motor traffic, 
radio, TV, household appliances etc.). Natural sounds, on the 
other hand — the singing of birds, for example, or the patter 
of rain, or the rustle of leaves on nearby trees — may be a 
welcome accompaniment to the reading process. 



Ringing Cedars Press is an independent publisher dedicated 
to making Vladimir Megre’s books available in the beautiful 
English translation by John Woodsworth. Word of mouth is 
our best advertisement and we appreciate your help in spread- 
ing the word about the Ringing Cedars Series. 

Order on-line www.RingingCedars.com ordering 

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The Ringing Cedars of Russia by 
Vladimir Megre 

Translation, Translator’s Preface and footnotes by 
John Woodsworth 

Editing, Editor’s Afterword, footnotes, design and layout by 
Leonid Sharashkin 

Cover art by 

Alexander Razboimikov 


Copyright © 1997 Vladimir Megre 
Copyright © 2005 Leonid Sharashkin, translation 
Copyright © 2005 Leonid Sharashkin, cover art 
Copyright © 2005 Leonid Sharashkin, design and layout 
Copyright © 2005 Leonid Sharashkin, preface, afterword, 
footnotes 


All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced 
or transmitted in any form or by any means, except for the 
inclusion of brief quotations in a review, without permission 
in writing from the publisher. 


Library of Congress Control Number: 2005901794 
ISBN: 978-0-9763333-1-9 


Published by 
Ringing Cedars Press 


www. RingingCedars . com 



Translator’s Preface vii 

1. Alien or Man? i 

2. A money-making machine 19 

3. Healing for hell 24 

4. A confidential conversation 27 

5. Where are you, my guardian angel? 31 

6. The cherry tree 36 

7. Who’s to blame? 43 

8. The answer 50 

9. Dachnik Day and an All-Earth holiday! 64 

10. The ringing sword of the bard 73 

11. A sharp about-turn 80 

12. Who sets the course? 84 

13. Money from scratch 85 

14. A destructive force 90 

15. ‘Herbalife’ entrepreneurs 98 

16. Free holidays in Hawaii 102 

17. The beginning of perestroika 104 

18. Fellowship of Russian entrepreneurs 108 

19. Suicide? 112 



vi Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

20. The Ringing Cedars of Russia 116 

21. Untitled 134 

22. Unravelling the mystery. 136 

23. Untitled 137 

24. Father Feodorit 139 

25. The Space of Love 154 

26. Anastasia’s grandfather 161 

27. The anomaly 171 

28. Illusory people 183 

29. Why nobody can see God 186 

30. Dawn in Russia 193 

31. How to produce healing cedar oil 199 

32. Title! 205 

33. Your sacred sites, O Russia! 212 

In Anastasia’s Ray. Editor’s Afterword 236 

About the Ringing Cedars Series 244 



Most readers of this present volume will have already mar- 
velled at the euphoric and mind-boggling revelations con- 
tained in Megre’s first book, Anastasia (published in English 
translation by Ringing Cedars Press in February 2005). 

In addition to offering the reader fascinating glimpses into 
the story of the publication of the first book, this second 
volume, The Ringing Cedars of Russia, delves deeply into the 
ethical and metaphysical concepts behind Anastasia’s sayings 
presented so dramatically in the ‘series opener’. The chapter- 
titles associated with these concepts range from the mystical 
(“The Space of Love”) to the mysterious (“Illusory people”) 
to the theological (“Why nobody can see God”) to the down- 
right practical (“How to produce healing cedar oil”). They all 
ring a chord of response in the reader’s heart and soul and at 
the same time call upon the thinker in each reader. And out 
of concepts such as these pop up at least as many questions as 
answers — questions that may well cause the reader either to 
re-examine or re-affirm his or her basic concepts of life. 

My own involvement with The Ringing Cedars of Russia did 
not pass without a personal effect on me (independently of 
the actual translation process, in which I take special care to 
be guided by objective professional standards). In no small 
measure the opportunity to work closely with the book not 
only reconfirmed much of what I already believed, but also 
helped me rediscover my own faith, allowing me a fresh look 
at a number of concepts I had been brought up on from 
childhood (like moving around a three-dimensional object 



viii Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

and seeing it from a different angle). It also caused me to re- 
examine the reasons for believing in what I had long believed 
(including the practical understanding and application of a 
spiritual approach to healing), and for this I am grateful. 

Indeed, it is hard for me now to believe that at this time 
last year I had never even heard of a Siberian recluse named 
Anastasia, or a Russian writer named Vladimir Megre, or a 
Russian-American forester named Leonid Sharashkin, or the 
mysterious ‘Ringing Cedars’. Yet these are names that, since 
entering my field of awareness in September 2004, have not 
only become a significant focus of my professional activity as 
a translator but also figured prominently in my daily thought, 
conversation and life experiences. 

Within four months I had not onlv read the first three 

j 

books of Megre’s Ringing Cedars Series but also completed 
the translation of Book 1, Anastasia. And now, less than four 
months after that, the translation of Book 2 is ready to go to 
press and I have already started work on Book 3. 

Translating the ‘cherry-tree’ chapter brought back a par- 
ticular memory of my initial read of the three books. This 
had taken place back in September and October, when our 
Ottawa weather still allowed a pleasant outdoor afternoon sit 
on our front porch. With its south-west exposure and view 
of nothing but the fields and trees across the road, the porch 
made an ideal spot in which to absorb this brand new liter- 
ary adventure into the delights of a summer glade in the far- 
off Siberian taiga. The afternoon sun was bright and warm 
enough to permit me to dispense not only with heavy outer 
clothing (which had already sprouted on the backs of many 
pedestrians on downtown sidewalks here) but also with my 
eyeglasses, which I am accustomed to make use of during any 
indoor reading. 

During the same period I was especially struck by the fol- 
lowing incident. On the porch, right in front of where I was 



Translator’s Preface ix 

sitting, stood a clay pot containing several red geraniums my 
wife had planted earlier in the year. My reading prompted me 
to look at them — and one flower in particular (the one closest 
to me) — through new eyes. I began to regard it with warmth 
and affection (I would even say love ) every time I saw it. 

Of course I had known from news reports about the ef- 
fect of people’s thoughts and attitudes on growing things, but 
it was not until my reading of Vladimir Megre that I had re- 
ally seen anything like this in practice. My newfound feelings 
for the geraniums remained strong throughout the month of 
October, and as the days gradually grew colder, most of the 
flowers in our garden (as well as other geraniums on the same 
porch) faded and expired for the season. But the geraniums 
in this pot, especially the one closest to me, refused to fade or 
even droop with the cooling of the air. Even toward the end 
of October, when I finished my reading of Book 3, it was still 
standing proud and just as bright red as when my attention 
was first drawn to it. And even when I saw it months later, 
all bent to the ground by winter snows, its vivid red hue had 
scarcely faded. 

Two other extraordinary coincidences occurred in our 
home during this period. In mid-November, just after I had 
finished translating the “Concert in the taiga” chapter in 
Anastasia and was working on the description of Anastasia’s 
dance routine in the morning mist in the following chapter 
(“Who lights a new star?”), my wife Susan, who had not read 
any of the text at this point, presented me with a poem she 
had recently written. The poem was entitled Gracefully, the 
dancer... and described a dance of ayounggirl “where all move- 
ment conforms to poetry” and whose “life itself had become 
a never-ending dance” — rather close indeed to Megre’s own 
expression. 

Three months later, shortly before the first print-run of 
Anastasia rolled off the presses in February 2005, Susan, an 



X 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


amateur artist as well as a poet, showed me a coloured-pencil 
drawing she had just been working on of a nude figure in her 
twenties with blonde hair, her hands upstretched to the heav- 
ens, the parts of her body drawn with colours of Nature in- 
stead of the flesh, and with a face very similar to the illustra- 
tion of Anastasia on the cover of the Russian edition. The 
remarkable thing is that at that point my wife had not read 
any of the text about Anastasia, nor even seen a portrait of 
her, and did not have her consciously in mind as she was doing 
the drawing. 

In his Afterword, editor Leonid Sharashkin will be shar- 
ing with you similar ‘coincidences’ from his own experience 
connected with the publication of the English translation of 
Anastasia in America. These and the hearty welcome of the 
book in the English-speaking world are indeed reminiscent of 
the surprising reaction of thousands of readers to the book’s 
initial appearance in Russia in 1996. 

Hearing the impressions shared with me by the first read- 
ers of Anastasia in English — by people from quite different 
walks of life — I have come to appreciate just how far-reach- 
ing and universal Anastasia’s message is in its scope. For one 
thing, it does not limit itself to any formulated creed. It is 
not a new religion with a new set of doctrines for which we 
must necessarily abandon whatever we believed in previ- 
ously in order to follow. It speaks to the hearts and minds 
of people of many different religions as well as, equally, to 
those who profess no religion at all. It speaks to the hearts 
and minds of many scholars and students of the physical sci- 
ences — especially those who are reaching out to explore the 
more holistic dimensions of their fields and to find answers 
that lift them beyond the confines of their specialist train- 
ing and into an understanding of how their investigations 
relate to the universal aspects of Man, Nature, the Cosmos 
and even God. 



Translator’s Preface 


xi 


In addition to a deeper exploration of these universal con- 
cepts, Book 2 offers an in-depth, behind-the-scenes look at 
how Book i finally came to be written and published. Like all 
great mind-stirring works of history, the birth-throes attend- 
ing its emergence into light came at a considerable price to 
the author. Just how high the price was — indeed, the whole 
chain of extraordinary circumstances that led from the wilds 
of Siberia to the book’s appearance on Moscow street-corners 
and its eventual inclusion in national best-seller lists — is part 
of the fascinating adventure you will now share with the au- 
thor as you journey from the mental heights of a taiga glade 
to the urban depths of Russia’s capital city, passing indeed 
“through the valley of the shadow of death ” 1 en route, along 
with a surprising encounter in a completely different tree- 
lined setting and a final stop in the foothills of the Caucasus 
mountains for yet another amazing discovery 

While the book’s message is indeed universal in its scope and 
applicable to individuals the world over, there is no escap- 
ing the fact that its original expression, in terms of not only 
words but concepts, draws in significant measure upon the 
Russian tradition, and this fact, as with its predecessor in the 
series, presented its share of challenges to the English transla- 
tor. Two of these deserve particular mention here. 

First, the Russian word sviatyni (derived from sviatoi = holy 
or sacred) has no direct equivalent in English. It refers not 
only to holy places such as sanctuaries, tabernacles, shrines 
and crypts, but also to sacred objects (including icons, stat- 
ues and relics), sacred texts (e.g., the Bible or the Koran) 
and even trees. Having the same root as the Russian word 
for light’ (svet), sviatyni may also be used to designate sacred 
concepts such as spirit ox grace. None of these alternatives by 


Psalm 23: 4 (Authorised King James Version). 



xii Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

itself would be sufficient to compass the range of the original 
Russian term. Since most of its occurrences relate to what 
we call ‘locations’, it was eventually decided to use the awk- 
ward but more or less accurate combination sacred sites as a 
general equivalent and employ alternative translations where 
the context required. 

Another Russian word whose translation engendered con- 
siderable discussion was pervoistoki — derived from two ba- 
sic roots: perv- (first, primary, primal) and istok- ( origin , source, 
spring — as in describing the headwaters of a river, for exam- 
ple). The compound term, especially as used in this book, un- 
mistakably conveys the sense of a pure, uncontaminated source, 
and this eventually led to the selection of the particular com- 
bination pristine origins. Other specific translation challenges 
are documented, where appropriate, in the footnotes. 

Again, as in Book 1, the footnotes are also used to give 
background information on specific people, places and events 
unfamiliar to most English-speakers. 

And now, dear readers, I need only invite you once again 
to find yourselves a comfortable reading-place — preferably 
one shielded from the possible intrusion of artificial sounds 
(a quiet outdoor setting would be ideal!) — and join with me 
in exploring the second instalment of the author’s adventure 
through both the geographical space of Russia’s vast distances 
and the mental space of the spiritual essence of the Universe, 
as revealed by The Ringing Cedars of Russia. 


Ottawa, Canada 
April 2005 


John Woodsworth 



Chapter One 



Before telling about further happenings connected with 
Anastasia, I should like to thank all the leaders of religious 
denominations, scholars and journalists, along with ordinary 
readers, who sent in letters, religious literature and comments 
regarding the events recounted in my first book. Anastasia 
has been called many things. The press has referred to her as 
Mistress of the taiga, 1 a Siberian wizard-girl, a fortune-teller, a 
divine manifestation, the girl from outer space. And so when 
one Moscow journalist asked me: “Do you now love Anasta- 
sia?”, I replied to her: “I can’t really tell what my feelings are.” 
And all at once the rumour started flying around that I was 
incapable of grasping anything at all because of my immatu- 
rity in spiritual matters. 

But how can one love when it’s not yet clear just who is 
there to be loved? After all, no one has yet been able to come 
up with a single definitive description of Anastasia. On the 
basis of her assertion: “I am Man, a human being — I am a 
woman!” 2 I’ve been trying to come up with some sort of ex- 
planation for her extraordinary abilities. Initially everything 
seemed to be falling into place. 


1 taiga — the Russian name given to the boreal forest that stretches across 
much of Siberia and northern Canada. 

"The word Man (with a capital M) is used throughout the Ringing Cedars 
Series to refer to a human being of any gender. For details on the word’s us- 
age and the important distinction between Man and human being please see 
the Translator’s Preface to Book i. 



2 


Book 2 : The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


Who is Anastasia? 

A young woman, born and living as a recluse in the remote 
Siberian taiga, brought up after the death of her parents by 
her grandfather and great-grandfather, who have also been 
living the life of a recluse. 

Can one consider the loyalty of wild animals to her some- 
thing unusual? 

Even this is nothing out of the ordinary Many animals in 
peasant farmyards get along peacefully with each other and 
treat their human masters with respect. 

A much more difficult task is determining the mechanism 
whereby she is able to see things at a distance and can know 
details of various events, even those that occurred thousands 
of years ago, and to be completely conversant with our con- 
temporary way of life. How does this ray of hers work when 
it heals people far away, when it penetrates the depths of the 
past or peers into the future? 

Philosophy professor Kim Ivanovich Shilin , 3 who is also a 
Corresponding Member of the International Academy of In- 
formatisation (MAI), has written a number of articles analys- 
ing Anastasia’s sayings. In one of them he wrote: 

Anastasia’s creative potential is a gift of God, a gift of Na- 
ture, which is universal, not merely a personal gift to her. 

All of us collectively, and each one of us in particular, are 

connected with the Cosmos. 


3 Kim Ivanovich Shilin — Doctor of Social Sciences, senior researcher at 
Moscow State University’s Institute for Asian and African Studies, known 
for his interdisciplinary research in philosophy, ecology, sociology, cultural 
and Asian studies, aimed at a synthesis of Eastern and Western cultural 
principles. He has authored numerous articles and several books on ecoso- 
phy (the interpretation of cultural and social phenomena on the basis of a 
culture’s relationship to and perception of Nature). 



Alien on Man? 


3 


The means of escaping an approaching catastrophe lie 
in a harmonious synthesis of our cultural principles. The 
development of this type of harmoniously pure childhood 
culture results in a “feminine” cultural type. This cultural 
type has been expressed most fully and clearly in Bud- 
dhism, but also in our Anastasia. It may be formulated in 
the following identification chain: 

Anastasia = Tara = Buddha = Maitreyad 
Anastasia is in the fullest sense Man in the likeness of 
God. 

Whether this is true or not is not for me to decide. Only 
I can’t understand why, then, she hasn’t written down any 
teachings, like all other enlightened people in the likeness of 
God, and instead has concentrated, all during her two dec- 
ades of conscious awareness, on dachniks ? 

Nevertheless, in reading what various scholars have to say, I 
have been able to conclude that she is not some kind of crazy 
person, inasmuch as there are at least hypotheses in the scien- 
tific world about what she has talked about, and experiments 
are being conducted on certain aspects of her sayings. 

So, for example, to the question: ‘Anastasia, by what means 
do you discern and depict all the different situations of thou- 
sands of years ago and even decipher the thoughts of the great 
thinkers of the past?” she replied: 

4 Tara — a female Buddha, a deity capable of removing interferences and 
putting things in perfect order. Maitreya (literally, ‘the loving one’) is de- 
scribed as the future Buddha, associated with friendliness, success and 
prosperity. 

1 dachniks — people who spend time (their days off, especially summer holi- 
days) at their dacha, or cottage in the country Unlike most cottages in the 
West, a dacha is invariably accompanied by a garden where fruits and veg- 
etables are grown to feed the family all year long (for further details, please 
see the Translator’s Preface to Book i in the Ringing Cedars Series). 



4 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


“The first thought, the first word was the Creator’s. His 
thoughts still live today, surrounding us unseen and filling uni- 
versal space, reflected in material, living creations produced 
for the number one creation, Man! Man is the child of the 
Creator. And, like any parent, He could wish for His child 
no less than what He has Himself. He has given him all. And 
even more — freedom of choice! Man can create things and 
perfect the world by the power of his thinking. No thought 
produced by Man disappears into oblivion. If it is a thought 
of radiant brightness, it will fill the space of light and rise on 
the side of the forces of light. A dark thought, however, will 
fall on the opposite side. And today any Man may make use 
of any thought produced at any time either by people or by 
the Creator.” 

“Then why doesn’t everybody use them?” 

“Everybody does, but in varying degrees. To use them, one 
is obliged to think, and not everybody succeeds in doing this 
because of the vanity of daily life.” 

“So, all you have to do is think, and the ability comes to you? 
And you can even discern the thoughts of the Creator?” 

“In order to discern the thoughts of the Creator, one must 
attain a purity of thought appropriate to Him, as well as the 
pace of His thinking. To discern the thoughts of enlightened 
people, one must possess their purity of thought and the abil- 
ity to think at the same rate. If a given Man has insufficient 
purity of thought to communicate with the dimension of the 
forces of light — the dimension in which radiant thoughts 
dwell, — then Man will draw his thoughts from their dark 
counterparts, and will end up suffering himself and causing 
others to suffer.” 

I’m not sure whether this is directly or only indirectly ex- 
plained by Academician Anatoly Akimov , 6 Director of the 
International Institute of Theoretical and Applied Physics at 
the Russian Academy of Natural Sciences, in his article in the 



Alien on Man? 


5 


magazine Chudesa i prikliuchenia (Wonders and Adventures) enti- 
tled “Physics recognises a Supermind”. He writes as follows: 

There have existed, and there exist now, two schools of 
thought, two models of perceiving Nature. One model 
is associated with Western scholarship — i.e., knowledge 
gained on the methodological basis prevalent in the West: 
evidence, experiments, etc. The other is the Eastern ap- 
proach, wherein knowledge is received from an external 
source through esoteric means in a state of meditation. 
Esoteric knowledge is not something acquired, it is con- 
sidered a gift to Man. 

As it turns out, at some point this esoteric approach 
was lost and a different route was embarked upon — one 
extremely slow and complex. Following this route, it has 
taken us over a thousand years to arrive at a level of knowl- 
edge which was common in the East three millennia ago. 


Anatoly Evgenevich Akimov — first introduced in Book i, Chapter 7: “Anas- 
tasia’s ray”. Though it is not commonly known, the USSR maintained an 
extensive research programme on psychic phenomena (for details please 
see the well-researched book Psychic discoveries behind the Iron Curtain by 
Sheila Ostrander and Lynn Schroeder). Anatoly Akimov headed one of 
the many groups of scientists charged by the KGB and the Soviet Defence 
Ministry to find a scientific explanation for paranormal phenomena and 
some people’s extraordinary abilities in clairvoyance, telepathy and tele- 
kinesis (moving solid objects by mental power alone) with a view to their 
applications to intelligence and military purposes. Akimovs and other 
teams’ experimental observations of these phenomena — in particular the 
direct control of human mind over physical objects — indicated that on a 
deeper level consciousness and matter have essentially the same nature, and 
led to the study of torsion fields. Many “traditional” scientists, jealous of 
the generous funding his group was receiving, were quick to label Akimov 
as a ‘pseudo-scientist' and ‘charlatan’, and charge him with “fraud and fal- 
sification of scientific research”, even though they themselves still cannot 
explain such phenomena, let alone answer even more basic questions such 
as What is matter? and What is energy? 



6 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


I have the intuitive feeling that those are right who say 
that the matter filling the whole Universe on a field level' 
is some kind of interrelated structure. In his book The sum 
of technologies, in a chapter entitled “The Universe as super- 
computer”, Stanislav Lem s proposed the existence of a gi- 
gantic computer-like Universal brain. Imagine a computer 
the size of the observable Universe (with a radius some- 
where in the order of 15 billion kilometres), filled with ele- 
ments taking up a volume of between 10 and 33 cubic cen- 
timetres each. 

And here this brain which fills the whole Universe is 
naturally endowed with powers which we are incapable of 
imagining or even fantasising. But if you take into account 
that in reality this brain functions not according to any 
computer principle but on the basis of torsion fields, 1 * * * * * * * 9 then 
it all becomes clear: the manifestations of the Absolute 


1 field level (Russian: polevoy woven) — the level of a number of ‘fields’ (such 

as electromagnetic and gravitational fields) filling the Universe but not di- 

rectly observable by the material senses. 

8 Stanislav Lem — Russian science-fiction writer best known for his novel 

Solaris, first made into a film by Soviet director Andrei Tarkovsky in 1972 

and thirty years later in a Hollywood version by Steven Soderbergh. Inci- 

dentally, Lem’s Solaris appears to be the inspiration behind the plot of Gene 

Roddenberry’s first Star Trek feature-length film (1979). 

9 torsion fields — the term first introduced in 1913 by a prominent French 
mathematician, Elie Cartan (1869-1951), to refer to a hypothetical field 
generated by a rotating object. This term later became used to signify the 
‘original’ field permeating the whole Universe, a spinning field considered 
to have formed the physical vacuum and given birth to all matter. If matter 
can be thought of as ‘frozen energy’, then energy can be equated to ‘frozen 
torsion fields’. While modern physics still lacks the appropriate technology 
to detect torsion fields, the notion that everything in the Universe is born 
from a spinning void is one of the oldest concepts in virtually all traditional 
cultures (note its ages-old symbolic manifestation in the rotating cross (or 
swastika) — a symbol found in all cultures on all continents). 



Alien on Man ? 


7 


proposed by Schelling 10 or the Shuniat 11 of ancient Vedic 
literature — these in essence constitute a computer. And 
there is nothing in the world apart from this computer. 
Everything else is some form or other of the Absolute. 

This is what Academician Vlail Kaznacheev,' 2 Active Mem- 
ber of the Russian Academy of Medical Sciences, wrote about 
the Ray in his article “Living rays and a living field”' 3 in Chnde- 
sa i prikliuchenia (Wonders and adventures) of 3 May 1996: 


IO Friedrich Wilhelm von Schelling (1775-1854) — German philosopher, who 
developed a dialectic of Nature as a living organism and an unconscious, 
spiritual, creative principle. 

11 Shuniat — the Buddhist concept of the Void’, or the space in which all 
exists. 

l ~ Vlail Petrovich Kaznacheev (1924-) — a prominent member of the Russian 
Academy of Medical Sciences from Novosibirsk, specialising in the inter- 
relationship between Man and Nature, including bio-systems and informa- 
tion processes. A decorated World War II veteran, Dr Kaznacheev has re- 
ceived numerous awards for his research and publications. 

' 3 In America pioneer research on the fields surrounding living organ- 
isms was carried out by Dr Harold Saxton Burr (1889-1973), Professor of 
Anatomy at the Yale University School of Medicine. Dr Burr discovered 
“that man — and, in fact, all forms — are ordered and controlled by elec- 
trodynamic fields which can be measured and mapped with precision... the 
‘fields of life’ are of the same nature as the simpler fields known to mod- 
ern physics and obedient to the same laws. Like the fields of physics, they 
are part of the organisation of the Universe and are influenced by the vast 
forces of space. Like the fields of physics, too, they have organising and 
directing qualities which have been revealed by many thousands of experi- 
ments. Organisation and direction, the direct opposite of chance, imply 
purpose. So the fields of life offer purely electronic, instrumental evidence 
that man is no accident. On the contrary, he is an integral part of the Cos- 
mos, embedded in its all-powerful fields, subject to its inflexible laws and 
a participant in the destiny and purpose of the Universe” — quoted from 
E.F. Schumacher’s A guide for the perplexed (New York: Flarper & Row, 1977), 
pp. 116-17, an d use d by permission of the Random Flouse Group Ltd. For 
more information see Burr’s Blueprint for immortality: The electric patterns of 
life (London: N. Spearman, 1972). 



Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


Vernadsky 14 was probably right in asking the question: how 
does the ideal, which is mental, translate the planet Earth 
into its new evolutionary phase? How? If you say: only 
through labour, only through explosions or only through 
technogenic activity, such a primitive answer will not do. 

There is factual evidence showing that Man is capable 
of exerting a remote influence on many electronic equip- 
ment readings. ITe can throw the measuring device out of 
whack, and that from far away. Here in Novosibirsk exper- 
iments are taking place on telepathic communication with 
Norilsk, Dikson, Simferopol and Tiumen, I: ’ as well as an 
American centre in Florida, and the remote links between 
Man and Man as well as between the measuring device and 
the operator register accurately and reliably. 

We are confronted with an unknown phenomenon — 
the interaction of living substance over huge distances. 

These articles, unfortunately, contain many unfamiliar 
terms, along with references to works of other scholars. It 
would be quite a task just to read them all, let alone make 
sense of them. 


^Vladimir Ivanovich Vernadsky (1863-1945) — a Russian scientist compared 
to Charles Darwin for his scope of contribution to the biological sciences. 
Vernadsky’s prime interest was researching how the human mind influenc- 
es the development of life on the planet. He viewed human intelligence as 
a powerful evolutionary force capable of transforming the whole biosphere 
onto a new level. Vernadsky introduced the term noosphere (literally, ‘sphere 
of Intelligence’) to refer to the incipient state of biosphere controlled by 
human intelligence — the new evolutionary stage transcending the conflict 
between technology and Nature. 

15 Norilsk — one of the most northerly cities in the world, close to the 'Yeni- 
sei River, and a major mining centre. Dikson — a port in Russia’s Far North, 
on the Kara Sea. Simferopol — capital of the Crimea (now part of Ukraine). 
Tinmen — the oldest Russian city in Siberia, founded in 1381, which long 
served as a centre for the Russian colonisation of Siberia. 



Alien on Man? 


9 


Still, I have found out that scientists are aware of Man’s 
capability to make contact at a distance. They are aware, too, 
of the universal data bank used by Anastasia. She calls it the 
dimension of the forces of light, home to all thoughts ever pro- 
duced by mankind. Modern science also speaks about this 
phenomenon, which it refers to as a supercomputer. 

I then had to figure out how I, who had never practised any 
literary art, having never been trained for it, managed to write 
a book which continues to excite so many people. 

When I was in the taiga, Anastasia told me: “I shall make 
you a writer. You will write a book, and many people will read 
it. It will have a beneficial influence on the readers.” 

Now the book has been written. And one might suppose 
that it was all due to her involvement. But then one would 
have to figure out how she influences other people’s creative 
abilities. However, nobody has yet managed to figure this 
out. 

It might make things easier, of course, to pretend that I 
myself possessed at least a little talen t and was simply setting 
forth the interesting information I had learnt from her. Then, 
it seems, everything would fall into place. Everything would 
be explained. There would be no need to waste any further 
time on reading scientific or religious literature or badgering 
specialists with questions. And here Anastasia presented a 
new phenomenon for which neither I nor any of the people 
who have been helping me can find an explanation to date. 

You may remember me writing in Book i what she said two 
years earlier: “Artists will paint pictures, poets will write verse 
and they will make a movie about me. You will see all this and 
think of me....” 

To my question “What do you mean, can she predict the 
future?” Anastasia’s grandfather replied: “Vladimir, Anastasia 
does not predict the future, she visualises it and turns it into 
reality” 



IO 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


Words, just words. Words come cheap. And to be hon- 
est, I didn’t pay too much attention to these words, dismiss- 
ing them as mere metaphor, since I had absolutely no way 
of even imagining how accurately everything Anastasia said 
would turn out to be true in real life. But the incredible does 
happen! 

Anastasia’s words are starting to come true in reality. 

First there was the flood of poems. A few of these poems I 
published at the end of Book 1. Next, Anastasia clubs started 
springing up in various cities. The first of these was in the 
city of Gelendzhik, where they held an exhibit of paintings by 
the Moscow artist Alexandra Saenko, all dedicated to Anasta- 
sia and Nature. 

I visited the clubhouse and looked at the walls hung with 
large pictures. The surrounding space seemed to change in 
appearance before my gaze. 

From the many pictures Anastasia looked out at me with 
her kindly eyes. And the scenes! I couldn’t get over it — 
some of the pictures showed scenes from this second book, 
which hadn’t been published yet. And there was this glowing 
sphere, sometimes appearing right next to Anastasia. Later 
I learnt that the artist painted not with a brush but with her 
fingertips. Most of the pictures had already been sold, but 
left hanging for the duration of the exhibit, since more and 
more people were coming to see them. The artist presented 
one of them to me as a gift, depicting Anastasia’s mother and 
father. I couldn’t take my eyes off her mother’s face. 

Offers started coming in from various film studios about 
making an Anastasia movie. And this was now something I 
was already accepting as a matter of course. 

As I touched the paintings and sheets of poetry with my 
hands, as I listened to the songs and looked at stills from a 
film which had already been made, I tried to make some sense 
of what was going on. 



Alien on Mail? 


ii 


And now there is a Moscow Research Centre devoted to 
investigating Anastasia phenomena, which has concluded: 

The greatest spiritual teachers known to mankind for their 
religious teachings and philosophical and scientific investi- 
gations, cannot match the fantastic pace of Anastasia’s in- 
fluence on the human potential. Their teachings have had 
a noticeable manifestation in real life only centuries and 
millennia after their first appearance. 

In some inexplicable way, over a matter of days and 
months Anastasia has managed, without the aid of written 
doctrines and religious teachings, to directly influence peo- 
ple’s feelings, provoking emotional outbursts and causing a 
surge of creativity manifest in artistic creations on the part 
of a whole lot of people who have been mentally touched 
by her. We are able to perceive them in the form of works 
of art and inspired impulses toward goodness and light. 

How is it possible that this lonely recluse, all alone in the 
remote Siberian taiga, has at the same time managed to soar 
over our lives in real time and space? 

How does she bring artistic creations into being through 
other people’s hands? They are all about light, about good- 
ness, about Russia, about Nature, about love. 

“She will cover the world with her great poetry of love. Po- 
ems and songs will shower the whole planet like a spring rain 
and wash away its accumulated filth,” Anastasia’s grandfather 
told me. 

“But how does she do it?” I asked. 

And the answer: 

“She gives off inspiration and illumination by the energy 
of the impulse of her own aspirations, by the strength of her 
dreams.” 

“What kind of power is hidden in her dreams?” 



12 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


“The power of Man as a Creator.” 

“But Man should receive some sort of compensation for 
his creations — honours, money, titles. And here she is giving 
them away and asking nothing in return. Why?” I asked. 

“She is self-sufficient. Her highest rewards are her own 
satisfaction and the sincere love of at least one person,” re- 
plied Anastasia’s grandfather. 

But so far these answers are not something I’ve been able 
to make complete sense of. In attempting to grasp who Anas- 
tasia really is and my own relationship to her in particular, I 
have continued to seek out various opinions about her, and 
read as much as I can in the way of religious literature. 

In fact, I’ve read more over the past year and a half than in 
all the previous years of my life taken together. But what has 
come of it? I have managed to come to only one indisputable 
conclusion: a number of ‘learned’ books claiming to be histor- 
ically accurate, religious and sincere, are nothing but a pack 
of lies. This conclusion arose out of a situation connected 
with the historical figure of Gregory Rasputin. 

In Book 1 I cited a passage from Valentin Pikul’s 16 histori- 
cal epic novel U posledmi cherty (At the last frontier). 


10 Valentin Savvich Pikul (1928-1990) — one of the most popular Soviet 
prose writers of the 1970s and 1980s. His famous novel, At the last fron- 
tier — published in 1979 in the major literary magazine Nash sovremennik 
as an abridged version of the novel Nechistaya sila (The demonic forces) — 
significantly strengthened the popular image of Rasputin as a corrupted 
immoral debaucher. Pikul’s extensive use of documents of the period, in- 
cluding journalistic accounts, to give his works an authentic ‘historical’ feel, 
contributed to the popular perception of his novels as ‘historical chroni- 
cles’ (although this is not generally supported by historians and literary crit- 
ics, who tend to dismiss them simply as adventure novels with an historical 
context). In 1981 At the last frontier was made into the ‘historical drama’ 
movie Agonia (Agony), directed by Elem Klimov (1933-2003), which won 
the prestigious International Federation of Film Critics award at the 1982 
Venice Film Festival and became a must-see cinematic experience through- 
out the USSR. The passage below is quoted from Pikul’s At the last frontier. 



Alien on Man? 


13 


Pikul’s narrative tells about a semi-literate peasant named 
Gregory Rasputin from the remote wilds of Siberia where 
the Siberian cedar grows. In 1907 he came to St. Petersburg, 
then the capital of the Russian empire. He not only endeared 
himself to the imperial family, impressing them with his pre- 
dictions of the future, but ended up sleeping with a good 
many of the most prominent women in the capital. When a 
group of officers tried to kill him, they were amazed to find 
that even after swallowing the cyanide poison slipped into his 
drink, he was still able to get up from the table and make his 
way outdoors, where Prince Yusupov fired shots at him point- 
blank from his pistol. Even after being riddled with bullets, 
Rasputin would not die. His wounded body was thrown off a 
bridge into the river, then fished out and burnt. 

The mysterious and enigmatic Gregory Rasputin, who im- 
pressed everyone with his stamina, grew up amidst the cedars 
of the Siberian taiga. 

This is how a contemporary journalist described his stay- 
ing power: 

“At age fifty he could begin an orgy at noon and go on ca- 
rousing until four o’clock in the morning. From his fornica- 
tion and drunkenness he would go directly to the church for 
morning prayers and stand praying until eight, before heading 
home for a cup of tea. Then, as if nothing had happened, he 
would carry on receiving visitors until two in the afternoon. 
Next he would collect a group of ladies and accompany them 
to the baths. From the baths he would be off to a restaurant 
in the country where he would begin repeating the previous 
night’s activities. No normal person could ever keep up a re- 
gime like that.” 

As with many other people, such descriptions also shaped 
my impression of Rasputin as a hopeless debaucher. But fate 
threw my way a different concept, as though trying to induce 
me to reconsider. 



14 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

This is what the Pope of Rome, John Paul II, had to say 
about Rasputin: 

“Today from the river comes unscathed the body (never 
found) of a holy monk. And his secret offspring will enter 
into the ark with prayer.” 

What’s going on here? On the one hand he’s referred to 
as a debaucher, on the other — a holy monk. Where is the 
truth? Where is the lie? 

There’s more. The text of some of Rasputin’s notes, writ- 
ten during a trip to the Holy Land, happened to fall into my 
hands (they were brought to Paris by a refugee from the USSR 
named Lobachevsky). This is what Rasputin himself wrote: 

The sea effortlessly comforts. When you awake in the 
morning and the waves ‘speak’ — they dance and make glad. 
And the sunlight glistens on the sea, it seems to rise ever 
so quietly, and at that moment Man’s soul forgets all about 
mankind and fixes its gaze on the glow of the sun; and a 
happiness kindles in Man, and he feels in his heart the book 
of life and the higher wisdom of life — indescribable beauty! 
The sea awakens him from the dream of earthly vanities, and 
many thoughts arise all by themselves, quite effortlessly 

The sea is a vast space, but the mind is even more spa- 
cious. There is no end to Man’s higher wisdom, no philoso- 
phy can possibly contain it. Another moment of stupen- 
dous beauty comes when the sun sets over the sea and its 
rays fill the western sky. 

Who can estimate the beauty of the sun’s twilight rays? 
They warm and caress the soul and offer healing com- 
fort. The sun disappears behind the mountains minute 
by minute, and Man’s heart grieves a little at its amazing 
twilight rays. And then it grows dark. 

And oh, what silence falls! Not even the sound of a bird 
is heard. Lost in thought, Man begins to pace the deck of 



Alien on Man? 


i5 


the ship, involuntarily recalls his childhood and all of life’s 
kerfuffle, and begins to compare the silence around him 
with the bustle of the world, and quietly talks with himself, 
desiring company to stave off the tedium inflicted upon 
him by his enemies... 

So, who were you, you Sibiriakf* A Russian named Gre- 
gory Rasputin? Where is the truth written about you, and 
where the lie? How to make sense of it all? What can one rely 
upon in trying to fathom the essence of one’s being, one’s des- 
tiny? What great works can help one discern between truth 
and falsehood? Where is the spiritual and sincere, as opposed 
to a mere pretence of omniscience? Perhaps one should try 
probing one’s own heart? I have never written poetry before, 
but I want to dedicate my very first poem to you, Gregory 
Rasputin. 

People read Anastasia and come up with sincere, original 
poetry. I have tried, too. And this is the result — for you. My 
apologies if the rhyme doesn’t always work out. 

Dedicated to 
Gregory Rasputin 

“So you’re semi-literate?” “Why yes, semi-literate. 

From the cedar forests — well, those are my roots!” 

‘And barefoot?!” “Walking all the way from Siberia, 

You’re bound to wear out more than one pair of boots! 

“I am going to the Tsar, to help our dear Batiushka 18 

Hold on just a little bit longer out there. 


l 'Sibiriak — the Russian word denoting a resident of Siberia. 

18 Batiushka (pronounced BAH-tioosh-ka, lit., ‘Father’) — an affectionate 
name used (especially by Russian peasants) in reference to the Tsar. 



1 6 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

I am going to our Russia, our dear Russia-Matushka ’ 9 
To give her a taste of our pine-forest air! 

“What about it, hussars? You dashing rogues, freely 
Debauching the ladies, making bold in a brawl? 

Just look at trie, look, and see how one really 
Debauches — you scum, thinking you know it all!” 

Peter’s city in fine Paris garb is assembling. 

But watch, lest your corsets too tight squeeze your hearts! 
The Sibiriak enters, and ladies are trembling 
At the sight of this peasant from far eastern parts. 

But as he went off to the morning-prayer service, 

For others’ redemption from error to pray, 

He heard his land calling — She spoke in a whisper, 

The only one telling him this: “Go away! 

“The flesh-eating age of the beast is upon us, 

All drunken and growling, it leads men astray 
While your fiery soul has been keeping it from us, 

It can no longer do so. You must go away 

“You can’t hold the savagery back for much longer. 

Just a moment, that’s all you will last — it’s too strong. 

I am Russia! You cannot imagine my sorrow! 

I know now: you never will finish your song. 

“Go back to your cedars. My rebounding is certain! 

And then you may ask whatsoever you will...” 


19 Russia-Matushka (pronounced in Russian: Ras-SI-ya hlA-toosh-ka ) — an 
endearing term signifying ‘Mother Russia’. 



Alien on Man ? 


17 


“Oh how I’d love us to go to the banya!'" 

I’d beat you with besoms of birch, even pine, 

My profligate Russia — for you I am longing! 

I shall stay with you, Russia, for ever — you’re mine!” 

The age of dark madness with fury came howling: 

Grishka 21 stumbled, his breast full of bullets that day 
While the blackness stood mocking, its dark visage scowling, 
Saying “Crawl, you Sibiriak! Go on, crawl away! 

“You can hold me back only a half-second longer, 

And then from the depths of my pit you’ll be shown 
A punishment frightful, more painful and stronger 
Than ever the world in its history has known! 

“A hero you are, but you’ll be called a blasphemer. 

From bottles of poison 22 your image will peek. 

And the scions you save will curse you as a schemer 
And spit on your soul, you Siberian muzhik . 11 

“Crawl away. It is I who now have all the power! 

Fly away, if you like, to your heaven on high! 

But a moment is left, see? Not a day, not an hour. 

So give me my moment! You’re still going to die.” 

20 banya — Russian baths or a bath-house, similar to a Finnish sauna, where 
boiling water is poured over hot stones to increase the temperature and bath- 
ers beat each other with birch besoms (brooms made of twigs tied around a 
stick) to stimulate blood circulation. Braver participants sometimes prefer 
besoms made of sharp-needled conifers (e.g., pine) instead of birch. 

21 Grishka — a diminutive form of the Russian name Grigory (Gregory). 

bottles of poison — referring to the Rasputin brand of vodka, popular all over 
Russia, with a picture of Rasputin’s face on the label. 

1 muzhik (pronounced moo-ZHIK) — a Russian word for a peasant, espe- 
cially one who lacks the refinem ent of an urban dweller. 



18 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

“Bring on the Madeira, let’s head for the banya! 

And there I shall show you what’s real and what’s crass. 

A Sibiriak, you say? I’m a down-to-earth peasant! 

So what’s all the babble and gab about, ass?” 

His body was shot through and drowned in the river, 

Then burnt in a courtyard midst rubble and sand. 

Today as spring winds blow their way over Russia, 

They carry his ashes across the whole land. 

“Well, muzhik said the blackness, still standing there mocking, 
“Where on earth is your tombstone, and where are your eyes? 
You can never bring back now the days of your living, 

And your scions will see but an image despised. 

“Show them the debt they owe! I give you power! 

Show them the bills for your service unpaid, 

Or is it your wish just to weep and to cower?” 

Grishka spit a lead bullet: “You, Satan, are foolish! 

As if I could care about either weeping or loans? 

Come now, my muzhiks — how’s the banya, dear fellows? 
Time for more boiling water to be poured on the stones?!” 


Gregory Rasputin from the cedar forests of Siberia stepped 
into the life of pre-revolutionary Russia in an attempt to head 
off the storm of revolution, and perished. 

Anastasia also lives amongst the cedars and is also trying to 
do good for people, also trying to head off something before 
it happens. But what fate has our society prepared for her? 



Chapter Two 




During my first days of talking with Anastasia I saw her as 
a recluse with her own unique way of looking at the world. 
Now, after all that I have heard and read about her, after all 
her subsequent penetrations into our lives, she has become 
a kind of an anomaly. My head has started to swirl in confu- 
sion. It is with great effort that I am trying to let go of the 
incoming tide of information and conclusions and get back 
to the simplicity of my first impressions. And to answer the 
oft-repeated question: “Why didn’t you bring Anastasia out 
of the taiga?” 

I wanted very much to bring Anastasia out of the taiga. 
But I realised it couldn’t be done by force. I needed to try and 
show her how useful and appropriate her stay in our society 
would be. I reflected on which of her abilities could be used 
by people — and my business in particular — with benefit ac- 
cruing to her as well. And suddenly I realised something: this 
Anastasia standing before me would be a real money-making 
machine ! 

For one thing she is easily capable of healing people from 
any disease. And she does this without making any kind of 
diagnosis, but simply chasing out of the body any pains and 
sores that have invaded it. And she doesn’t even have to 
touch the body I experienced this for myself. She becomes 
utterly concentrated, looking out with her kind, unblinking 
bluish-grey eyes. And the body seems to warm up from her 
look, and even one’s feet begin to perspire. All sorts of toxins 
escape through the perspiration. 



20 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


People pay big money for medicines and operations. If one 
doctor can’t help, they go to another, or go to psychics, or bio- 
energy therapists, just to get cured of a single disease, some- 
times spending weeks or months or even years in their search 
for a cure, while Anastasia’s method takes but a few minutes. 
I calculated that if she spends even fifteen minutes on one 
patient and charges just two hundred fifty thousand roubles 
for that (although many healers charge a good deal more), 
that would make one million roubles an hour. But that’s by 
no means the limit. Operations, for example, can cost up to 
thirty million roubles . 1 

It seemed as though a sound business plan was taking 
shape in my head. I decided to work out some details and 
asked Anastasia: 

“So, that means you can rid a person’s body of any and 
all ills?” 

“Yes,” replied Anastasia. “I think I could eliminate any 
and all.” 

“How much time do you need to spend on a single patient?” 

“Sometimes quite a lot.” 

£ A lot — that’s how long?” 

“Once it took me more than ten minutes.” 

“Ten minutes — that’s nothing. Some people take years to 
get better.” 

“Ten minutes is a long time, considering the fact that I have 
to concentrate, as it were, and decrease my sense of conscious 
awareness.” 

“That’s not a problem, conscious awareness can wait. You 
know so much as it is. I’ve thought of something, Anastasia.” 


1 two hundred fifty thousand, one million, thirty million roubles — equivalent 
to approx. US$50, 200 and 6,000 respectively at the June 1995 exchange 
rate. With an average Russian’s monthly income of under $100 at the time, 
those figures were truly astronomical. 



A money-making machine 


21 


“What have you thought of?” 

“I’ll take you with me. In a big city we’ll hire a decent office 
for you, I’ll advertise and you can treat people. You’ll be of a 
great help to all sorts of people, and we’ll have a right good 
income.” 

“But I sometimes treat people right now as it is. When I 
visualise various situations with the dachniks, to help them un- 
derstand the world of plants around them, my Ray also elimi- 
nates their diseases, only I try not to eliminate all diseases...” 

“But they don’t even know that you’re the one that’s doing 
it, they don’t pay you any money for it, or even say ‘thank you’! 
You don’t get anything for your labours?!” 

“I do.” 

“What?” 

“I feel happy.” 

“Well, that’s fine then. You can be happy, and delighted, 
and the business will have an income as well.” 

“But what if somebody does not have any money to pay for 
treatment?” she enquired. 

“Now why are you jumping into trifling matters like that? 
You don’t have to think about that. You’ll have secretaries, 
and an administrator. All you need think about is treating 
people, perfecting yourself and attending seminars to share 
your experience and exchange ideas with other healers. Do 
you know yourself how your method works, your Ray, and 
what the underlying principle is?” 

“Yes, I know. And this method is known in your world too. 
Doctors and career scientists know about it. Or at least they 
feel its beneficial effect. In hospitals they try to talk with 
their patients cheerfully, so as to uplift their spirits. Doctors 
have long noticed that if someone is in a state of depression, 
it is difficult to cure their disease, and medicines do not help, 
while if you treat a patient with love, the disease will go away 
more quickly” 



22 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


“So why has nobody tried learning this method and devel- 
oping it to the degree you have?” 

“Many scientists are trying to learn it. And many people 
you call folk healers also use this method, and they are having 
some success. This is the same method Christ Jesus healed 
by, as well as the saints. Much is said about love in the Bible, 
because this feeling has a beneficial influence on Man. It is 
the strongest feeling of all.” 

“Why do healers and doctors have so little success, and you 
have so much?” 

“Because they live in your world, and they, just like every- 
one else in that world, have taken in harmful feelings.” 

“What kind of harmful feelings, and what do they have to 
do with it?” 

“Harmful feelings, Vladimir, are anger, hatred, irritation, 
jealousy, envy... and others. They and other similar feelings 
make Man weaker.” 

“You mean to say, Anastasia, that you hardly ever get an- 
gry?” 

“I never get angry” 

‘All right, Anastasia. It’s not important how this effect 
comes about, it’s the final result that’s important, and what 
benefit can be derived from it. Tell me, would you agree to go 
with me and get involved in treating people?” 

“Vladimir, you see, my home is here — this is my moth- 
erland, the place where I belong. It is only by staying here 
that I can fulfil my purpose. Nothing gives Man greater 
strength than his motherland, the Space of Love created by 
his parents. Treating people, delivering them from physical 
ailments — I can do that right here from a distance, with the 
help of my Ray.” 

“Well, all right. If you don’t want to travel, you can do your 
treating from a distance. You and I can set up an arrangement 
as to where those wishing treatment can come. They will pay 



A money-making machine 


23 


their money, and you will heal them at a specific time. We’ll 
draw up a schedule. Would you agree to that?” 

“Vladimir, I know you want to make a lot of money. You 
shall have it. I shall help you. Only that is not the way to do 
it. In your world people charge for treatment — there is no 
other way in your world. But I would rather do that without 
any question of money Besides, I cannot treat everybody in- 
discriminately, since I have not fully realised in which cases 
healing will be helpful, and in which ones harmful. But I shall 
try to become aware of this and understand. And as soon as 
I can decipher — ” 

“What drivel is that?” I broke in. “How can healing or 
treating a person be harmful? Or do you mean harmful to 
yourself?” 

“Healing of physical ailments can often bring harm to the 
one healed.” 

“It seems, Anastasia, your sophistications have given you a 
somewhat inverted concept of good and evil. Doctors have 
always been held in high regard by society, even though they 
have not performed their services free of charge. And, since 
you cite the Bible so much, you’ll find that is not forbidden 
even there. So cast those doubts out of your head. Curing 
someone is always a good thing!” 

“You see, Vladimir, I know this from experience. My 
grandfather showed me an example of the harm that healing 
can bring when it is not thought through, when the patient 
himself does not participate in the healing.” 

“What kind of strange philosophy you have here! I offer 
you a joint business venture. What have such examples got 
to do with it?” 



Chapter Three 



Healin 



“One day I saw with my Ray a lonely old woman working on 
her garden plot,” Anastasia began. “She was spritely, slim and 
always cheerful. She caught my interest right away She had a 
very small plot, and a lot of different things growing in it, and 
they grew very well, because she tended them with love. 

“Then I learnt that the old woman would put everything 
she grew into a basket and take it into town and sell it. She 
tried not to eat the early fruits of her labours, but sell them 
when they would still fetch a high price. She needed the 
money to help her son. She had given birth to him late in 
life, and soon afterward she was left without a husband. Her 
relatives never communicated with her. Her son liked to 
draw as a child, and she had dreams that he would become 
an artist. 

“Several times he tried to get in some place where he could 
pursue his studies. Finally he made it. And once or twice a 
year he would come to visit his elderly mother. These visits 
were the highlight of her life, and each time she would save up 
her money and prepare a whole supply of food for him. As the 
time for his visit approached, she would pack vegetables into 
glass jars, put their lids on tight and give the whole supply to 
him when he arrived. 

“She loved him very much, and kept dreaming about her 
son becoming a top-notch artist. She lived on that dream. 
The woman was kind and cheerful. 

“Then for awhile I did not watch her. The next time I saw 
her she was very ill. She had a hard time bending over to work 



Healing for hell 25 

on her plantings — each time she bent over, a sharp pain ran 
right through her body 

“But she proved to be very resourceful. She made her beds 
long and narrow. Each time she went out to her plot she would 
take with her the seat from an old stool (minus the legs) and 
use it to sit on while she did her weeding, and that way she 
was able to move around the whole plot without having to 
bend over. She dragged the basket along on a string. And she 
was looking forward to a good harvest. 

“It really looked as though the harvest that year would be 
quite plentiful, since the plants felt her state of mind and react- 
ed accordingly The woman sensed that she would soon pass on, 
and to make things easier for her son, before she died she bought 
a coffin and a wreath and made all the funeral preparations. 

“But she still wanted to bring in one last harvest, and pre- 
pare the winter’s food supply for her son before she died. I 
did not pay much attention then to why she was still sick even 
after such close contact with the plants. I thought perhaps it 
was because she herself ate almost nothing from her plot. She 
sold what she grew and then used the money to buy things she 
needed on the cheap. 

“I decided to help her, and one night when she lay down to 
sleep I began warming her with my Ray, removing the pains 
from her body I could feel some kind of resistance to the 
Ray, but I still kept on trying. I did this for about ten minutes 
until I succeeded in healing her flesh. 

“Then, when Grandfather came, I told him about the old 
woman. And I asked him why the Ray had met some resist- 
ance. He thought about it, and then told me I had done the 
wrong thing. It made me very distraught. 

“I began asking Grandfather to explain why. At first he did 
not say a word. Then he said, ‘You healed the body.’” 

I was amazed. “What harm could you have possibly 
brought to the woman’s soul?” I asked. 



2 6 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


Anastasia sighed and went on: 

“The woman’s health got better and she did not die. Her 
son came to see her earlier than usual. This time he came 
only for two days and told his mother he had quit his studies 
and did not want to be an artist any more. He was now in- 
volved in some other work that brought in more money He 
had got married. Now he would have a lot of money And he 
no longer wanted her to prepare ‘those insipid food jars’ for 
him, since transporting them would now cost more. 

‘“Y>u can eat better yourself, now, Mother,’ he said. 

“He left without talcing anything. That morning the wom- 
an sat on her porch, looked at her plot, and her eyes were filled 
with such emptiness and depression — they looked as though 
she did not want to live. You see, her body was healthy, but it 
was as if there were no life left in it. I saw, or rather felt, the 
terrible emptiness and hopelessness in her heart. 

“If I had not cured her body, the woman would have died at 
the right time, she would have died peacefully with her beau- 
tiful dream and hope intact. Now here she was, still alive, but 
in great despair, and this was many times more frightening 
than physical death. 

“Two weeks later she passed on.” 



Chapter Four 




conversation 


“I realised,” Anastasia continued, “that physical disease is 
nothing compared with mental torments, but at the time I 
was not yet able to treat the soul. I wanted to know how I 
could do this or even if I could do it at all. Now I know — it 
is possible! 

‘And I found out something else — that physical diseases 
appear in Man not just as a result of his self-withdrawal from 
Nature around him, and not just as a result of the dark feelings 
which he allows himself to take in. They (the diseases) can 
also be a means of warding off or even deliverance from con- 
siderably greater torments. Diseases are one of the devices or 
means of communication between the Supreme Intelligence 
(God) and Man. Man’s pain is His pain, too. But it could not 
be otherwise. How else could you get the message, for ex- 
ample: ‘Do not keep throwing into your stomach all sorts of 
harmful stuff.’ You tend not to listen to words of reason, after 
all. That’s why the message comes through pain. But instead 
you swallow pain-killers and go back to stubbornly doing your 
own thing.” 

“So,” I countered, “it follows then, in your opinion, that 
there’s no need to treat people at all? No need to help them 
with their ailments?” 

“Help there should be, but first of all to gain a proper un- 
derstanding of the origins of the disease. 

“Man needs help in discerning what the Supreme Intelli- 
gence, God, desires to say to him. But that is a most difficult 
task. One can make mistakes. Pain, after all, is a confidential 



28 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


conversation between two beings who know about each oth- 
er. Interference from a third party often harms Man instead 
of helping him.” 

“Well, why then did you rid me of my diseases?” I asked 
Anastasia. “Does that mean you’ve harmed me in some 
way?” 

“All your diseases will come back to you if you do not 
change your lifestyle, your attitude to things around you 
and to yourself. If you do not change some of your habits. 
They are the causes of your diseases. I have done no harm 
to your soul.” 

It became clear to me that it would be impossible to per- 
suade Anastasia to make money out of using her healing abili- 
ties until she had sorted things out for herself. My business 
plan had fallen apart. Anastasia must have noticed my irrita- 
tion, for she said: 

“Do not be upset, Vladimir. I shall try to grasp everything 
as quickly as possible. And now, if you really want to help 
others and yourself and not just make money, I shall tell you 
about the means by which Man can cure himself from many 
diseases without undesirable side-effects, as might happen 
when outsiders try to interfere in his destiny If indeed you 
want to listen to this...” 

“What choice do I have? I’m not going to change your 
mind, in any case. Tell me.” 

“There are several main causes underlying the diseases of 
the human flesh, namely: harmful feelings, emotions, an arti- 
ficial dietary regime — an unnatural meal schedule and food 
composition, the lack of short-term and long-term goals, and 
a misapprehension of one’s essence and purpose in life. Posi- 
tive emotions, a variety of plants and a reappraisal of one’s 
essence and purpose in life — all these are capable not only 
of counteracting diseases but also of significantly enhancing 
one’s physical and mental or emotional state. 



A confidential conversation 


29 


“As far as bringing back — under the conditions of your 
world — Man’s lost connection with plants, I have already 
told you about that. After Man has established a direct per- 
sonal contact with these plants, it is much easier to make 
sense of everything else. 

“The Ray of Love, too, is capable of curing many diseases 
of one’s fellow-Man and even prolonging his life by creating 
around him a Space of Love. 

“But Man himself, once he has managed to arouse positive 
emotions in himself, can use them to extinguish pain and cure 
the diseases of the flesh — even the effects of poison.” 

“What does that mean — ‘arousing positive emotions?” 
I queried. “How can one think good thoughts if one has a 
toothache or a stomach-ache?” 

“Pure, clear moments of life, positive emotions, like guard- 
ian angels, will overcome pain and disease.” 

“But what if someone doesn’t have enough pure and clear 
moments to arouse the positive healing emotions — what 
should he do then?” 

“lie should create at once something to make them appear. 
They appear when people around you treat you with genuine 
Love. So you must create a situation along those lines, create 
it by your actions in respect to those around you, otherwise 
your guardian angel will not be able to help you.” 

“I wonder whether I have ever had them myself, and if so, 
how strong they were. How does one call them forth?” 

“This can be done through reminiscing. For example, let 
us recall something good, something pleasant from your past. 
With the help of that image try to feel the soft and pleasing 
state of mind you experienced back then. Do you want to try 
it now? I shall help you. Try it.” 

‘All right, let’s give it a try” 

“Please, lie down on the grass and relax. You can remem- 
ber starting from this point in your life right now going back 



30 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

into the past. Or you can start with your childhood and pro- 
ceed up to the present day Or you can jump at once to the 
most pleasant moments and feel the sensations connected 
with them.” 

I lay down on the grass. Anastasia lay down beside me and 
pressed her fingers against mine. I thought her proximity 
might prevent me from concentrating on my reminiscences, 
and I said: 

“Perhaps I’d better be alone.” 

“I shall be very quiet. When you start remembering, you 
will forget about me. And you will not feel the touch of my 
hand. But I can help you remember everything more quickly 
and vividly” 



Chapter Five 




are 



9 



The chronicle of my life-story took me back to my child- 
hood. My reminiscences continued up to the point where I 
was playing in the sand with the country kids, and then broke 
off. At that moment my soul was overwhelmed with an inex- 
plicable sense of alarm. Not a single event in my whole life 
aroused positive emotions or feelings comparable to those I 
experienced that morning after spending the night with Anas- 
tasia. Or with those that arose in me after she brought the 
rhythms of surrounding Nature in tune with the beating of 
my heart (I described this experience in the chapter “Touch- 
ing Paradise”). But I considered these marvellous feelings to 
be something created in me by Anastasia — they weren’t my 
own. They were artificial, a gift from Anastasia. Involuntari- 
ly, I compared them with those of my previous life, and found 
no analogy whatsoever. 

Again and again I hunted down recollections of my life, as 
though running a movie reel, backward and forward. Every- 
thing I saw was related to my efforts to get or achieve some- 
thing. Sure, I got what I wanted, one thing after another, but 
there was no great feeling of satisfaction. Instead, some new 
desire merely appeared. And the most recent years of my life, 
when those around me thought how splendidly everything 
was turning out for me, aroused an even greater feeling of 
confusion and chaos. The cars I had acquired, the women, 
the banquets, the gifts and congratulations I had received — 
all seemed empty and pointless. 



32 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


I quickly got to my feet and said, with some irritation, ei- 
ther to myself or to Anastasia: 

“There are none of these healing sensations in Man’s life! 
At least, not in mine. And I would say there are many lives 
where they can’t be found.” 

Anastasia also rose to her feet and calmly observed: 

“Then you should create them as quickly as possible.” 

“ What do I need to create? Tell me, what?” 

“First you must understand what holds the greatest mean- 
ing, or significance, for you. You have just been looking over 
your past life. But even with the opportunity to analyse it, 
to look at it objectively, as it were, you still were not able to 
notice what was really significant. You kept latching on to the 
usual values, as you saw them. Tell me the situations where 
you felt you came closest to a sense of happiness.” 

“There were two situations, but each time something pre- 
vented me from feeling truly happy in them.” 

“What kind of situations?” 

“Back in the early days of perestroika 1 1 managed to acquire 
a long-term lease on a steamship. This was the best passen- 
ger ship in the Western Siberian river fleet — the Mikhail Ka- 
linin. 

‘After the lease agreement was drawn up, I went to the har- 
bour and there she stood. What a beauty! I remember the 
first time I stood on the deck of my very own ship.” 

‘And did your feelings of happiness greatly increase when 
you stood on the deck?” 

“ You know, Anastasia, our lives are filled with all sorts of 
problems. As soon as I had climbed aboard, I was met by the 


1 perestroika — the policy of restructuring the economic and political system 
of the Soviet Union, initiated by Gorbachev in 1985, which eventually led 
to the collapse of communism and the break-up of the USSR in the early 
1990s. 



Where are you, my guardian angel? 


33 


captain. We went to his cabin and had a bottle of champagne 
together. During our conversation the captain advised that 
all the water pipes needed cleaning at once, or the health au- 
thorities would not allow us to set sail. And there were other 
things he told me...” 

‘And so, Vladimir, you immersed yourself in all the prob- 
lems and cares involved in the running of the ship.” 

“Yes, that’s right. There were a lot of them.” 

“It is inherent in the nature of artificially created matter 
and various mechanical devices, Vladimir, that they bring 
more problems than pleasures. Their benefit to Man is quite 
illusory” 

“Well, I don’t happen to agree. Maybe in themselves 
these mechanical devices have problems — they need con- 
stant repair and maintenance. Still, they help us get a lot of 
things.” 

“What, for example?” 

“Even love.” 

“Genuine Love, Vladimir, could not possibly be under the 
control of artificially created objects. Even if you owned all 
the objects in the world, you would not be able, just with their 
help, to gain access to the true Love of even one woman.” 

“Well, you simply don’t know our women. You’re spinning 
theories, that’s all. I managed to get it.” 

“What did you manage to get?” 

“Love. I quite simply succeeded. There was one woman I 
loved a great deal. I loved her for many years. But she didn’t 
really want to go off with me anywhere alone. When I got 
my ship, however, I invited her aboard, and she accepted. 
Can you imagine how great that was?! Here we were sitting 
alone at the ship’s bar. There was champagne, first-class wine, 
candlelight, music — and nobody else around. Here we were 
alone in the empty bar on my ship. She was the only one there 
with me. 



34 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


“I had the ship set sail without taking on any other pas- 
sengers, just so we could be alone. The ship proceeded down 
the river. There was music playing in the bar. I invited her 
to dance. Her figure was fantastic, especially her breasts. I 
hugged her tight, my heart was pounding for joy, and I kissed 
her on the lips! 

“She didn’t run away, she even hugged me back. Do you 
see? There she was right beside me, and I could touch her, 
and kiss her. All this was because of the ship, and you say it 
can only bring problems.” 

‘Amd then, Vladimir, what happened?” 

“Nothing much.” 

“Please try to remember, anyway” 

“I tell you, it was nothing important.” 

“Can I tell you what happened there, on the ship, between 
you and that young woman?” 

“You can try.” 

“You had a lot to drink. You made a deliberate effort to 
drink as much as possible. Then you put the keys to your cab- 
in — your luxury apartment — on the table in front of her, 
and you yourself went down to the lower decks. You slept al- 
most twenty-four hours in the cramped crew’s quarters. And 
do you know why?” 

“Why?” 

“The moment came when you noticed a strange expression 
on the face of that beloved young woman of yours — a pre- 
occupied smile. Intuitively, even subconsciously, you realised 
that she, your beloved, was thinking how happy she would be 
if only it were her own beloved that was sitting across from her 
in this bar, instead of Megre. Your precious girl was dreaming 
of someone else, someone she really liked. She fantasised that 
it was he, and not you, who was master of the ship. You were 
at the mercy of inert matter, to which you had tied your living 
feelings and aspirations, and were choking them to death.” 



Where are you, my guardian angel? 


35 


“Don’t go on, Anastasia!” I pleaded. “These recollections 
aren’t happy ones for me. In any case, the ship did play its 
role. It was thanks to the ship that you and I met.” 

“The happenings of the present are the result of previous 
feelings and impulses of the soul, and it is only they that de- 
termine the future. And it is only their momentum, only the 
beating of their wings, that is clearly reflected in the heavenly 
mirrors. And only their impulses and aspirations will be re- 
flected in happenings here on the Earth.” 

“What do you mean by that?” I asked in some bewilder- 
ment. 

“Our meeting may well be the culmination of many aspira- 
tions of the soul on both your part and mine — perhaps on the 
part of our immediate or even more distant forebears. Per- 
haps it came from a single impulse of the cherry tree growing 
in the garden of your country home. Only not the ship.” 

“What has the cherry tree in my garden got to do with it?” 

“In all your many glances back at your life, you failed to pay 
any attention to this cherry tree and your feelings connected 
with it, yet those feelings have played a leading role in your 
life in recent years. The Universe did not react to your ship. 
Just think, what could a primitive, run-down material device, 
incapable of either thinking or restoring itself, possibly mean 
to the Universe? 

“But the cherry tree... a little Siberian cherry tree, which 
you could not even make room for in your recollections, ex- 
cited the cosmic expanses and changed the course of time 
and history — and not only yours and mine. Because it is a 
living being, and, like all living beings, has an inseparable con- 
nection with creation as a whole.” 



Chapter Six 



The cherry tree 


“Remember, Vladimir, everything within you associated with 
this little tree. Remember, starting right from the moment 
you first made contact with it.” 

“I shall try to remember, if you think it’s important.” 

“Yes, it is important.” 

“I was riding in my car, I don’t remember where I was go- 
ing. We stopped near the Central Market. I asked my driver 
to get out and buy some fruit. I stayed in the car and watched 
people leaving the market carrying all sorts of saplings.” 

“You watched them and were surprised. Why?” 

“You see, their faces were happy and contented. Even 
though it was cold and rainy out, here they were hauling away 
some kind of saplings with their roots all bound in cloth. 
These saplings were heavy to carry, but the people’s faces were 
content, and here I was sitting in my warm car and I was sad. 

“When the driver returned, I got out and went over to the 
market myself. I kept walking up and down past the mer- 
chants’ stalls and bought three cherry saplings. As I was toss- 
ing them into the baggage compartment, the driver said that 
one of the saplings wouldn’t survive, since its roots had been 
cut too short, and I’d better throw it out right off, but I de- 
cided to keep it. It was the most graceful of the three. Then 
I went and planted the saplings in the garden of my country 
home. 

“I threw in extra topsoil around the tree with the short 
roots, and a sprinkling of peat moss, along with a bit of fer- 
tiliser.” 



The cherry tree 


37 


“In trying to help it, you burnt two more little roots of the 
sapling with the fertiliser,” Anastasia added. 

“But it survived! In the spring, when the buds started 
coming out on the trees, its branches came to life, too. Lit- 
tle leaves began to appear. Then I set out on my commercial 
expedition.” 

“But before that,” Anastasia observed, “every day for a pe- 
riod of more than two months you would drive out to your 
country house and the first thing you did was go and see 
how the little tree was getting on. Sometimes you stroked 
its branches. You were so happy to see the leaves, and kept 
watering the tree. You drove a stake into the ground and 
fastened the trunk to it with twine all around so the wind 
wouldn’t break it. 

“Tell me, Vladimir, do you think that plants react to people’s 
attitude toward them? Do you think they feel good and bad 
thoughts?” 

“I’ve heard, or read, somewhere that house-plants and 
flowers do react that way They can even become all withered 
when their care-giver goes away. I’ve heard about scientific 
experiments where they attached sensors to various plants, 
and the needles jumped one way when the plants were ap- 
proached aggressively, and the other way when someone ap- 
proached them with thoughts of gentleness and kindness.” 

“So, Vladimir, you know about plants reacting to the ex- 
pression of human feelings. And, according to the Grand 
Creator’s design, they strive to do all within their power, all 
that they can, to meet Man’s needs — they bring forth fruit, 
and try to arouse positive emotions in Man with their flowers 
beautiful and fair — indeed, they put oxygen into the air so 
that we can breathe. 

“But plants have been granted yet another function which 
is no less important. Plants which come into direct contact 
with an individual Man create for him a Space of true Love. The 



38 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

kind of Love without which life for the human race would be 
impossible. 

“Many dachniks are in a hurry to get out to their plots be- 
cause it is there that such a Space has been created for them. 
And this little Siberian cherry tree you thought to plant, the 
one you cared for yourself, it tried to do the same as all other 
plants and perform its assigned function. 

“If there are a lot of them, plants can create for Man a sig- 
nificant Space of Love — if they are of different varieties and 
Man communicates with them, and approaches them with 
Love. All together plants can create for Man a significant 
Space of Love which enhances the soul and makes the body 
whole. 

“You see, Vladimir — all together, when there are a lot of 
them. But you looked after just one sapling. And so this one 
little Siberian cherry tree began aspiring to do what only a 
number of plants acting together can do. 

“Its aspiration was aroused by your special relation to it. It 
was something you yourself realised only intuitively — in all 
your surroundings only this one little tree was not asking any- 
thing of you, it was not being hypocritical, it only aspired to 
give of itself — and then you came along. You were tired after 
a busy day. You went over to the tree, stood and pondered. 
You looked at it, and it responded. 

“Before the first ray of dawn appeared in its perfection, 
the leaves of the tree tried to catch that ray’s reflection in the 
brightening sky. And when the Sun went down afar, it tried 
using the light of a bright star. And as it persisted, something 
transpired by and by, just a wee bit of something transpired. 

“Its roots, twisting themselves around the burning ferti- 
liser, were able to take in what they required from the Earth. 
And the Earth’s juices began turning and running through 
the veins of the tree a little more quickly than usual. And 
then one day, in an early morning hour, you came and saw the 



The cherry tree 


39 


little flowers to which the tree’s delicate branches had given 
birth. The other saplings were devoid of flowers, but this 
one, thanks to your gift of caring, had already blossomed. 
You were overjoyed. Your spirits were uplifted and then... 
do you remember what you did, Vladimir, after seeing the 
flowers?” 

“I really was overjoyed. For some reason my mood was on 
a high, I felt a lightness in my head. I went and stroked its 
branches with my hands.” 

“You gently stroked its branches. And you said, ‘Well now, 
my beauty, you’ve blossomed!’ 

“You see the trees, Vladimir, and you see the leaves, and 
the fruit borne thereof. But more than that, the trees create 
a Space of Love. The little cherry tree very much wanted you 
to have this Space. But where was the place for the tree to 
find the strength to give back to Man what it had received 
from him? It had tried and tried and had already given eve- 
rything that was in its power, but it had received something 
extraordinary besides — a showing of tenderness toward it- 
self and the flowers it bore. And then it had the desire to do 
more! All by itself! 

“You went off onyourverylong expedition. And then, com- 
pleting your journey and returning, the first thing you did was 
go to the garden plot to see your little cherry tree. But along 
the way you were eating cherries you had bought at the mar- 
ket. As you approached it, you noticed that there were three 
red cherries growing on your tree. You stood there beside it, 
all tired out, eating the bought cherries and spitting out the 
stones. Then you tore one of the cherries off your tree and 
tried it. Indeed, it was just a little bit more sour, a little less 
sweet than the market cherries you had decided to eat, and 
you did not touch the other two.” 

“I had had my fill of the other cherries. And this one was 
indeed more sour.” 



4 o 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


“Oh, if only you had known, Vladimir, how much pow- 
er those little cherries contained on their own that was so 
beneficial to you! How much energy and Love! From the 
depths of the Earth and the expanses of the Universe and 
more, the tree had gathered everything helpful for you and 
poured it into these three cherries. It had even let one of its 
branches wither in order to make these three cherries ripen. 
One of them you tried, but you left the other two on the tree 
to die.” 

“I had no idea. But still, I was happy that it was capable of 
bearing fruit.” 

“Yes, you were happy. And then... do you remember what 
you did this time?” 

“Me? Well, I stroked the tree’s branches some more.” 

‘And you not only stroked them. You even bent over and 
kissed the leaves on the branch which was resting on the palm 
of your hand.” 

“Yes, I did. Because I was in such a good mood.” 

‘And something incredible happened with the tree. What 
more could it do for you, since you had not taken the fruit 
thereof that had been grown with so much Love? What could 
it do? 

“It trembled from the kiss of Man, and the thought and feel- 
ings inherent only in Man but produced by this little Siberian 
cherry tree took flight into the Universe’s space of light — to 
give back to Man what it had received from him. To give back 
to Man its kiss of Love, to warm him with this — the bright 
feelings, the Space of Love. And against all laws that thought 
swept across the Universe but could not find a resting-place, a 
means of manifesting the breath — the life — of itself. 

“Knowing that one cannot find a resting-place means 
death. 

“Then the forces of light returned to the cherry tree the 
bright thought it had produced, so that it might destroy the 



The cherry tree 41 

thought within itself and not perish. But the tree did not 
pick it up! 

“The little Siberian cherry tree’s burning desire endured 
unchanged, extraordinarily pure and trembling. 

“The forces of light did not know what to do. The Grand 
Creator was not about to change the established laws of har- 
mony for you. But the cherry tree did not perish. It managed 
to endure because the thought, aspiration and feelings there- 
of were extraordinarily pure, and by the laws that constitute 
creation as a whole nothing can destroy pure Love. And it 
circled over your soul and dreamt of finding a resting-place, a 
place to thrive. Alone in the Universe, it was striving, aspiring 
to create for you a Space of Love. 

“I came to your ship to at least try to be of some help and 
fulfil the cherry tree’s desire to find this resting-place, to 
manifest its love. Even though I did not know to whom it 
was addressed.” 

Anastasia paused. 

“You mean to say,” I queried, “that your relationship to me 
arose out of your desire to help the tree?” 

“My relationship to you, Vladimir, is simply that: my rela- 
tionship. It is difficult to say who was helping whom here — 
the cherry tree me or I the tree. Everything in the Universe 
is interrelated. To perceive what is really going on in the 
Universe one need only look into one’s self. But now, by your 
leave, I am giving an embodiment to this, to what the cherry 
tree desired. May I give you a kiss from the tree?” 

“Of course you may Since it’s the right thing to do. And 
when I get home, I shall eat all of its fruit.” 

Anastasia closed her eyes. She pressed her hands to her 
breast and quietly whispered: 

“Feel this, little cherry tree. I know you can feel it. I shall 
now do what you wished. This will really be your kiss, little 
cherry tree.” 



42 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


Then Anastasia quickly placed her hands on my shoulders 
and, without opening her eyes, drew near, touched her lips to 
my cheek and held them there. 

It was a strange kiss, just the touch of her lips. But it was 
not like any I had ever received before. It aroused an extraor- 
dinarily pleasing sensation, one I had never felt up to now. 
The technique of moving the lips or tongue or body probably 
had nothing to do with it. What counted, most probably, was 
what was hidden in the inner Man that was manifesting itself 
in the kiss. 

But what was hidden inside this taiga recluse? Where did 
she get so much knowledge from, so many unusual abilities 
and feelings? Or maybe everything she said was simply the 
product of her imagination? But then where did the ex- 
traordinarily tender, charming and heart-warming sensations 
come from — the ones I could most certainly feel within me? 
Perhaps our joint efforts will manage to unravel the mystery 
through the aid of the following situation which I had the 
good fortune to witness. 



Chapter Seven 



Who’s to blame? 


Once when Anastasia was trying to explain something to me 
about lifestyles and faith, but couldn’t find suitable, under- 
standable words — which she no doubt very much wanted to 
find — a curious incident took place. 

Anastasia quickly turned to face the ringing cedar, pressing 
the palms of her hands against its trunk. But then something 
inexplicable began happening to her. Lifting up her head and 
addressing either the cedar or Someone way up high, all at 
once she started speaking passionately and with concentrat- 
ed attention in a combination of words and sounds. 

She was evidently trying to show or explain something, 
or plead for something. From time to time her monologue 
seemed to be infused with tones of persistent demanding. 
The resonant ring of the cedar increased in volume. Its ray 
became brighter and thicker. And then Anastasia demanded 
sharply: 

‘Answer me! Answer! Explain! Give it to me, give it to me!” 
she said, shaking her head and even stamping her bare feet. 

All at once the pale glow of the ringing cedar’s tree-top be- 
came focused into a ray, and the ray suddenly broke off from 
the cedar and flew upward and dissolved into thin air. But at 
this point another ray appeared, coming down to the cedar 
from above. It seemed to consist of a bluish mist or cloud. 

The needles of the cedar, pointing downward, were illu- 
minated with similar misty rays, almost unnoticeable. And 
these rays pointed toward Anastasia, but didn’t touch her — 
they seemed to disappear and dissolve in the air. And when 



44 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


she insistently stamped her feet and even slapped the ringing 
cedar’s huge trunk with the palms of her hands, the glowing 
needles began stirring and their rays joined to form a single 
Ray of bluish mist. It aimed itself downward toward Anas- 
tasia, but didn’t touch her. The Ray dissolved in the air, liter- 
ally dissolved — at about a metre away from Anastasia at first, 
then at just half that distance. 

I suddenly recalled with horror how Anastasia’s parents 
had perished — very likely from just such a Ray. 

Anastasia continued her stubborn pleading and demand- 
ing, much like a spoilt child insisting on some desired favour 
from its parents. And suddenly the Ray made a dash for her, as 
it were, illuminating her whole body like a flashbulb. 

A cloud first formed around Anastasia and then began dis- 
sipating, ever so slowly. The ray from the Cedar dissolved, 
the rays from the needles were extinguished. The cloud 
around Anastasia continued to dissipate. It was either en- 
tering into her or dissolving in space. 

Now radiant with a joyous smile, she turned and took a 
step in my direction. Then she stopped and began staring 
past me at something beyond. I turned around to see Anasta- 
sia’s grandfather and great-grandfather coming into the glade. 
The tall, grey-bearded great-grandfather walked slowly, just 
ahead of his son. He was leaning on a stick that looked some- 
thing like a shepherd’s staff. Upon reaching my position, he 
stopped and fixed his gaze on me, as though staring into emp- 
ty space. I couldn’t even tell whether he actually saw me or 
not. Great-Grandfather stood silently for a moment. Then, 
after bowing ever so slightly, without uttering so much as a 
word of greeting, he headed over to Anastasia. 

Even though Grandfather was a bit of a fussbudget, he was 
a very simple man. His whole demeanour pointed to a most 
kind and cheerful fellow. As he approached the spot where 
I was standing, he at once stopped and offered me a simple 



Who’s to blame? 


45 


shake of his hand. He started to say something, but I can’t 
recollect exactly what he said. For some reason both of us felt 
our attention and concern suddenly drawn to what was going 
on at the base of the cedar. 

Great-Grandfather had stopped just a metre from Anas- 
tasia. They stood there for a while, silently staring at each 
other. Anastasia was standing before the bearded old man, 
her hands lowered to a vertical position, as though she were a 
schoolgirl or university applicant being confronted by a strict 
examiner. She looked like a child caught being naughty, and 
her anxiety was most evident. 

The tense silence which had come over the scene was bro- 
ken by the deep, clear, velvety tones of Great-Grandfather’s 
voice. Fie did not say hello to Anastasia but proceeded at 
once to a stern questioning, every word slowly and distinctly 
pronounced: 

“Who can make an appeal directly to Him without going 
through the light and rhythm that have been bestowed upon 
us?” Whereupon Anastasia responded without hesitation: 

‘Any Man can make an appeal to Him. From time imme- 
morial He Himself has taken great pleasure in talking with 
Man. And this is what Fie wills right now:” 

‘Are all paths outlined by Him in advance?” Great-Grand- 
father continued. ‘Are there many Earth-dwellers capable of 
discerning them? Are you capable of seeing these paths?” 

“Yes. I have seen what has been outlined for mankind. I 
have seen how future events are dependent on the conscious 
awareness of those who are living today” 

“Have His Sons and their enlightened followers who have 
perceived His Spirit, done enough to bring enlightenment to 
those living in the flesh?” 

“They have done and are doing everything, not even taking 
thought for their own life. They have borne witness to the 
truth and are still bearing witness.” 



4 6 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

“Can one who has seen the truth have any doubt about His 
intellect, kindness and magnificence of Spirit?” 

“He has no equals! He is One! But He does wish to com- 
municate. He wants people to understand and love Him as 
He loves.” 

“In communicating with Him, is it permissible to be inso- 
lent and demanding?” 

“He has given a particle of His Spirit and Mind to everyone 
living on the Earth. And if a small particle — His particle — 
in Man, does not agree with what is generally accepted, that 
means He — and I mean He — is not satisfied with every- 
thing as it has been outlined for the future. He is reflecting 
on it. Could one term His reflections insolence?” 

“Who is permitted to hasten the pace of His reflections?” 

“Only the One who gives permission.” 

‘And just what are you asking for?” 

“I am asking how to give understanding to those who do 
not understand, how to inculcate feeling in those who do not 
feel.” 

“Has the lot of those who fail to perceive Truth been 
determined?” 

“The lot of those who fail to perceive Truth has been de- 
termined. But who is to blame for the lack of acceptance of 
truth — the one who does not accept the truth or the one 
from whom he receives it?” 

“What? You mean, you...” Great-Grandfather said in agi- 
tation, and then fell silent. 

He stood silently for a while, looking at Anastasia. Then, 
with the help of his staff-like cane, he got down on one knee 
and took Anastasia’s hand. Inclining his silvery-grey head to- 
ward her, he ldssed her hand and said: 

“Hello, Anastasia.” 

Anastasia herself at once knelt down before her great- 
grandfather, and exclaimed with excitement and surprise: 



Who’s to blame? 


47 


“What do you mean, Grandpakins, treating me like a child? 
I’m grown up now.” 

Then she put her arms around his shoulders, snuggled her 
head against his beard-covered chest and held still. I knew 
she was listening to his heartbeat. That was something she 
had loved ever since her childhood. 

The oldster continued kneeling, one hand resting on his 
cane, the other stroking Anastasia’s golden hair. 

Grandfather got excited, and rushed over to his father and 
granddaughter who were both still kneeling. He began strut- 
ting around them, throwing up his arms in some bewilder- 
ment. Then all of a sudden he too got down on his knees and 
embraced them both... 

Grandfather was the first to rise to his feet. He then helped his 
father up. Great-Grandfather was still staring intently at Anas- 
tasia. Then he slowly turned around and started walking off. 
Grandfather in the meantime started muttering away, though 
it wasn’t clear whether he was addressing anyone in particular: 

‘All the same, they’re all spoiling her. Even He spoils her. 
Dear me, just look at where she’s got to! She pokes her nose 
in wherever she feels like it. There’s nobody to teach her a les- 
son. Who will now help the dachniks? Who, I say?!” 

Great-Grandfather stopped in his tracks. He slowly turned 
around and said distinctly, in his deep velvety voice: 

“Granddaughter dear, follow the dictates of your heart and 
soul. I myself shall help you with the dachniks.” 

Turning away once again, the majestic greybeard started on 
his way out of the glade. 

“Do you see what I mean? — they’re all spoiling her,” 
Grandfather broke in again. 

Picking up a short switch, he strutted over to Anastasia. 
Waving the switch about his head, he threatened: “I’m going 
to teach her a lesson, right now!” 



4 8 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


“Oh, oh!” Anastasia threw up her hands in feigned fright. 
Then she gave a laugh and ran off, trying to elude her pursuing 
grandfather. 

“So, she’s even taken it into her head to run away from me. 
As if I couldn’t catch up!” he muttered under his breath. 

With unaccustomed ease and speed he intensified Inis pur- 
suit. Anastasia ran laughing, weaving her way across the glade. 
And while Grandfather did not relax his pace, he was still un- 
able to catch up to her. 

Suddenly Grandfather gasped and sat down, grasping his 
leg. Anastasia quickly turned about, her face full of concern. 
She ran over to her grandfather and held out her hands to 
him. And all at once she stopped. Her infectious peals of 
laughter filled the glade. I paid particular attention to her 
grandfather’s pose and realised the source of her mirth. 

Grandfather was squatting down on one leg, holding his 
other leg out in front, not touching the ground. And here he 
was stroking the very leg he was squatting on, as though it had 
been injured. He had outsmarted Anastasia, but she was not 
deceived. 

As it turned out later, she was supposed to have noticed 
right off the comic discrepancy in his pose. While Anasta- 
sia was laughing, Grandfather managed to seize her by the 
arm. He raised his switch and gave her a light spanking, like 
a child. Anastasia squealed, trying to pretend it was painful. 
And in spite of the endless laughter she was trying so hard 
to restrain, Grandfather put his arms around her shoulders 
and said: 

“All, right, that’s enough. Don’t cry You’ve learnt your les- 
son? You’ve got what was coming to you. You’ll be more obedi- 
ent in future. 

“Listen, I’ve started training the eagle. It may be old, but 
it is still strong and remembers many things. And here she’s 
insolently poking her nose into everything.” 



Who’s to blame? 


49 


“Grandpakins! My dear, sweet Grandpakins! The eagle! 
That means you already know about the baby?!” 

“The star, don’t forget!...” 

Anastasia didn’t let her grandfather finish. Putting her 
arms around his waist, she lifted him off the ground and spun 
him around. When she returned him safely to the ground, 
Grandfather staggered a bit, and said, trying to appear strict: 

“So that’s the way you treat your elders? Tou see what I 
mean — you’re spoilt!” And, continuing to wave the switch, 
he hurried to catch up with his father. As he reached the trees 
at the edge of the glade, Anastasia called after him - 

“Thank you, Grandpakins, for the eagle. Thank you very 
much!” 

Grandfather turned around and looked at her. 

“Only just be, my dear child... please remember to be 
more — ” His voice was too gentle. Breaking off his sentence, 
he added with a bit more severity: 

“Watch out, or else...” 

And he disappeared into the forest. 



Chapter Eight 



Once we found ourselves alone, I asked Anastasia: 

“What’s all the big excitement about some kind of eagle?” 

“The eagle will be very much needed for the little one,” she 
answered. “For our baby, Vladimir!” 

“To play with?” 

“Yes. Only play has a considerable significance for his fu- 
ture learning and feelings.” 

“I see.” 

I said this, even though I didn’t fully understand this busi- 
ness of playing with a bird, even an eagle. 

“But what were you doing with the cedar? Were you pray- 
ing, or talking with someone? What happened with you and 
the cedar, and why did Great-Grandfather seem so severe 
when he talked with you?” 

“Tell me, Vladimir, do you think there is, well, some kind 
of intelligence out there? Does there exist a Mind in the invis- 
ible world of the cosmic — in the Universe? What do you 
think?” 

“I think it’s true. You know, even scholars talk about that, 
as do mediums, and the Bible.” 

‘And this something — what would you say is the best word 
to describe it? I need to know this so that you and I can agree 
upon a definition. Say, for example, Mind, Intelligence, Being, 
Forces of Light, Vacuum, Absolute, Rhythm, Spirit, God...?” 

“Well, let’s say ‘God’.” 

‘All right, then. Now tell me, does God attempt to com- 
municate with Man, what do you think? I do not mean by a 



The answer 


5i 


voice from heaven, but through people, through the Bible, let 
us say — to offer a hint on how to be more happy?” 

“But the Bible was not necessarily dictated by God.” 

“Well, by whom, then, would you say?” 

“People could have done that — people who wanted to in- 
vent religion. They sat down and wrote it collectively” 

“You think it is that simple? People just sat down and 
wrote a book, and thought up narratives and laws? A book 
that has lasted for millennia and is the most popular and 
widely read book that has existed to date?! Over the centu- 
ries a whole multitude of other books have been written, but 
few of them can compare with the Bible. What does that 
mean to you?” 

“I don’t know,” I admitted. ‘Ancient books, of course, have 
been around for a long time, but most people today prefer 
contemporary literature — novels, detective stories and all 
sorts of inferior stuff. Why is that so?” 

“Because reading them hardly requires any thinking. In 
reading the Bible one is obliged to think at a faster pace and 
there are many questions one must answer for one’s self. 
Only then will it become clear. It unfolds itself, so to speak, 
to one’s consciousness. If one looks upon the Bible merely 
as a statement of dogma, then reading and memorising a few 
commandments is sufficient. But any dogma imposed from 
without and not grasped by one’s inner being precludes taking 
advantage of the opportunities afforded Man as Creator.” 

“What questions do we need to answer when we read the 
Bible?” 

“To begin with,” replied Anastasia, “you might try to figure 
out why Pharaoh was unwilling to allow the children of Israel 
to leave Egypt.” 

“Well, what’s there to think about? The Israelites were 
slaves in Egypt. Who would want to let his slaves go? They 
worked hard and brought Pharaoh a good income.” 



52 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

“The Bible says that more than once the Israelites brought 
a plague over the whole land of Egypt. They even killed peo- 
ple’s first-born offspring, along with those of animals. Sorcer- 
ers were later burnt at the stake for such acts, but here Phar- 
aoh simply refused to let them go. Now answer the question: 
where did the Israelite slaves get enough goods and cattle to 
spend forty years travelling? Where did they get the weapons 
to seize and destroy cities along their route?” 

“What do you mean, where? Didn’t God give them everything?” 

“Do you think that was only God’s doing?” 

“Then who?” 

“Man, Vladimir, has full freedom. He has the opportunity 
to make use of all the bright resources God gave him origi- 
nally, but he can make use of other resources too. Man rep- 
resents a union of opposites. 

“See, Vladimir, how the Sun shines. That is God’s creation. 
It is for everyone. For you and me, for the snakes, the grass 
and the flowers. But bees use the flowers to get honey, while 
the spider’s power is to draw poison. Each of them has its own 
function and no bee and no spider can do otherwise. Only 
Man has a wider scope, only Man can act in more than one way! 
One Man can rejoice at the first rays of the Sun, while another 
might curse. Man, you see, can be both a bee and a spider.” 

“Does that mean God wasn’t the only one helping the Is- 
raelites? How can you tell, then, what God actually did, as 
opposed to what was merely attributed to Him?” 

“When something significant is created through Man,” 
Anastasia explained, “there are always two opposites at work. 
Man exercises freedom of choice. Which he will accept more 
of depends upon his purity and conscious awareness.” 

“Well, all right, let’s accept that. So, you were attempting to 
talk with Him when you were standing at the base of the cedar?” 

“Yes, I wanted Him to answer me.” 

‘And Great-Grandfather objected?” 



The answer 


53 


“Great-Grandfather thought that I was speaking too irrev- 
erently, that I was too demanding.” 

“You really were demanding, I saw it. You were stamping 
your feet, and pleading. What on earth did you want?” 

“I wanted to hear an answer.” 

“What sort of answer?” 

“You see, Vladimir, God’s essence is not in the flesh. He can- 
not yell down to everyone from heaven, telling them how to 
live. But He wants things to be fine and whole with everyone, 
and so he sends His Sons — people into whose mind and soul 
He has been able to break through at least to some extent. 

“His Sons then go and talk with other people, they speak 
different languages. Sometimes through words, sometimes 
with the help of music or pictures, or various actions. Some- 
times they are listened to, at other times they are persecuted 
and lolled. Like Christ Jesus, for example. And still God is 
sending forth His Sons. But as always, it is only some of the 
people who pause and listen to them, while others who are 
called do not get the message at all. And they violate the laws 
of a happy existence.” 

“I see. And that’s why God will punish mankind by a global 
catastrophe — some kind of fearful judgement?” 

“God never punishes anyone, and He does not need catas- 
trophes. God is Love. But that is the way it was planned from 
the very beginning. Created that way from above. When 
mankind reaches a specific point, one might say, in its unwill- 
ingness to accept the essence of truth. Once the elements of 
darkness manifest in Man reach that critical point, in order 
to avert total self-annihilation, a global catastrophe rushes in 
which takes away a great many people’s lives and crushes the 
destructive life-support system of artificial creation. The ca- 
tastrophe serves as a lesson to those who are left alive. 

“Following a catastrophe there is a window of time in 
which mankind seems to go through a fearful hell. But it is 



54 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


a hell of their own making. It is those who are left alive that 
fall into this hell. Then for a while their children survive as 
in a pristine, original state, and they eventually reach a stage 
one could call Paradise. Then they fall away again, and it all 
starts over again in tears. This has been going on for billions 
of earthly years.” 

“If all this has been inevitably repeating itself for billions of 
years, what then were you asking for?” 

“I wanted to find out how and by what means people could 
be made wiser without subjecting them to a catastrophe. You 
see, I have figured out that a catastrophe can be blamed not 
only on those who do not accept truth, but also on the ab- 
sence of a sufficiently effective means of making the truth be 
seen, of making people alert to the truth. I was asking Him to 
find such a means. To reveal it, either to me or someone else. 
To whom, I feel, is not really important. What is important 
is that it is there to be seen, and that it works.” 

“And what did He tell you? What kind of voice does He 
have?” 

“Nobody can tell what kind of voice He has. His answer 
takes form, as it were, in Man’s discovery of a thought spon- 
taneously occurring to himself. After all, He can speak only 
through His particle that is present in every Man, and this 
particle is already relaying information to every other part 
of the individual with the help of the rhythm of vibration. 
Hence the impression arises that Man is doing it all by him- 
self. Though Man himself can actually do a great deal. After 
all, Man is God’s likeness. In each Man there is a tiny particle 
breathed into him by God right at birth. He has given half of 
Himself to mankind upon the Earth. And the forces of dark- 
ness try by whatever means they can to prevent this God- 
reflected particle from acting out its high purpose, to distract 
Man from communication with it, and, through it, with God. 
It is much easier to fight with a small particle when it is all 



The answer 


55 


alone, especially if it is not connected to the Basic Force of 
the Universe. 

“But if these particles unite amongst themselves in bright 
aspirations, it is much more difficult for the forces of dark- 
ness to hinder them. Even if one single particle, living in just 
one single Man, is in full contact with God, then it is impos- 
sible for the forces of darkness to overpower him, to defeat 
his spirit and mind.” 

“That means,” I surmised, “you appealed to Him so that the 
answer would be given birth in you as to what to say to people, 
and how to say it, in order to avert a global catastrophe?” 

“More or less.” 

‘And what answer was given birth in you? What words 
must be spoken?” 

“Words... just words alone, pronounced in the usual way, 
are not sufficient. So many words have been spoken already. 
Yet humanity on the whole continues to move toward its own 
perdition. 

“You have no doubt heard words to the effect that smok- 
ing is bad, that alcoholic drinks are bad. And this is repeated 
by a number of sources, including your own physicians, in the 
language you best understand, yet you still go on doing it. You 
go on doing it without regard for the deterioration in your 
own health, and even painful sensations will not restrain ei- 
ther you or many other people from these destructive habits. 
God says to you: ‘You should not do that.’ And the message 
reaches you through pain. And it is not just your pain, but His 
too, and yet you take painkillers galore and go on doing your 
own thing as before. Again, you are not interested in thinking 
about what produces the pain. 

‘And all the other higher truths are known to mankind, 
but they are not being acted upon. Time after time they are 
rejected in favour of momentary illusory gratifications. It 
means another way must be revealed to allow them not only 



5 6 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

to know but also to feel other kinds of pleasure. Once Man 
has learnt of these, he can compare and realise everything for 
himself, he will unblock access to the God-bestowed parti- 
cle within him. It is no good simply threatening Man with a 
catastrophe, it is no good simply blaming those who do not 
accept truth. Everyone who brings the truth to others must 
understand how needful it is to seek a more perfect method 
of explaining it. Great-Grandfather agreed with me.” 

“But that’s not what he said.” 

“There was a lot that Great-Grandfather said that you did 
not hear.” 

“If you were able to communicate with each other without 
words, why then did you say the words that I did hear?” 

“Would you not consider it offensive if people conversed 
using foreign words you could not understand, given that 
they knew your language too?” 

Various thoughts ran through my mind: Either I believe eve- 
rything she tells me or I don’t. She herself, of course, believes. 
And it’s not just that she believes it, she acts upon it. She takes it 
all so intensely — maybe I should try to somehow restrain her 
enthusiasm. So I tried to dampen her fervour by saying: 

“You know what I think, Anastasia — maybe you don’t 
need to take it so to heart and get so stirred up with your de- 
mands, as you were doing at the cedar tree. Even the blue 
glow or vapour from the cedar came crushing down on you. 
Your grandfather and great-grandfather were right to be con- 
cerned. It’s probably very dangerous. If God has not given 
the answer to any of His Sons as to how to explain everything 
to people most effectively that means there is no answer. It 
means that a global catastrophe is the most effective way of 
getting His message across. Maybe He’s even annoyed with 
you for poking your nose in too far and will punish you so you 
won’t do it again, just like your grandfather said.” 

“God is kind. He will not punish.” 



The answer 


57 


“But He isn’t speaking to you either. Maybe He’s not in- 
terested in listening to you, and meanwhile you’re wasting so 
much energy.” 

“He is listening and He is answering.” 

“What is He answering? Is there something new you know 
now?” 

“He has hinted at where to find the answer, where to search 
for it.” 

“He’s ‘hinted’? To you?! So, where is it?” 

“In the union of opposites.” 

“ What does that mean?” 

“It happens, for example, when two opposite extremes of 
human thinking in the Avatamsaka commentary merge into 
a new dynamic whole. This was behind the philosophies of 
Hua-yen and Kegon, 1 which offer a world-view of even greater 
perfection, not unlike the models and theories in your mod- 
ern physics.” 

“What was all that?” 

“Oh, please do excuse me. I do not know what came over 
me. I completely forgot myself.” 

“What are you apologising for?” 

“You must forgive me. I used words which are completely 
unfamiliar to you.” 

“You’re right. They are unfamiliar. I have no idea what 
they mean.” 

“I shall try not to do that again. Please, do not be angry 
with me.” 

“Don’t worry, I’m not angry. Only explain in ordinary words 
where and how you will go about searching for this answer.” 

1 Avatamsaka Sutra (also known as the Flower Garden Sutra) — considered 
to be the most profound of the Buddhist sutras (sets of aphorisms), which 
holds that all manifestations of existence are self-created and mutually 
identical. It gave rise to the philosophical school known as Hua-yen in Chi- 
na and Kegon in Japan. 





Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


“I certainly cannot do it alone. It can only be known 
through the joint effort of the divine particles to be found 
in various people living on the Earth — people with opposite 
modes of thinking and comprehension. Only through a joint 
effort will it be seen, and then in a dimension invisible to the 
eye — the domain of thoughts. One can also call it the di- 
mension of the forces of light. It exists between the material 
world, in which Man lives, and God. 

“I shall see it, and many others will, too. Then it will be 
easier to attain a universal conscious awareness. It will be 
easier to bring mankind through the dark forces’ window of 
time. And the catastrophes will not be repeated.” 

“Specifically, what do people need to do right now to make 
the answer appear?” 

“It would be fine if a lot of people could wake up in the 
morning at a set time — six o’clock, say — and think about 
something good. What specifically they think about is not 
important. It is important that they come out with bright 
thoughts. They can think about their children, about their 
loved ones, about how to make everyone happy If they could 
only think fifteen minutes like that. And the more people 
that do that, the quicker the answer will come. The Earth’s 
time zones may be different, since the Earth is turning, but 
the images created by these people’s bright yearnings will 
merge into a single, clear, fulfilled image of conscious aware- 
ness. The simultaneity of bright thoughts will intensify each 
person’s ability many, many times.” 

“Oh, Anastasia, how naive you are! Who in their right mind 
would wake up at six o’clock in the morning just to think for 
fifteen minutes? People will only get up that early if they have 
to go to work, or have a plane to catch, or are going on a busi- 
ness trip. Anybody else will decide: ‘Leave the thinking to 
others, I’m going to get some more sleep!’ I doubt you’ll find 
many helpers that way.” 



The answer 


59 


“But you, Vladimir — could not you, at least, help me?” 

“Me? I don’t wake up that early unless I have to. But if 
I should somehow find myself waiting up then, what good 
tilings should I think about?” 

“Well, for example, you could think about the little son I 
will be giving birth to. Your son! Think how delighted he will 
be to be kissed by the Sun’s rays, to see the pure and magnifi- 
cent flowers all around him, and have the bushy-tailed squirrel 
play with him in this glade. Think how good it would be if all 
the other children in the world could forever be kissed by the 
warm Sun — then nothing would make them sad. Then think 
about who you might say something glad to or give a smile to 
during the day ahead. And how good it would be if this mar- 
vellous world lasted forever, and what you could do — you in 
particular — to bring this about.” 

“I’ll think about our son. And I’ll try to come out with 
other good thoughts. Only what’s the point? You’ll be think- 
ing here, in the forest, while I’ll be in an apartment in the city 
That’s only two of us. You say many people are needed. So 
until we get a lot of people involved, isn’t it pointless for just 
the two of us to try?” 

“Even one person, Vladimir, is more than none. Two to- 
gether are more than two apart. Later, after you write your 
book, more people will come along. I shall feel them and de- 
light in each one. We shall learn to catch each other’s feelings 
of the heart, understand and help each other through the di- 
mension of the forces of light.” 

“Everything you say still has to be believed. I myself don’t com- 
pletely believe in this ‘bright dimension’, this ‘domain of thoughts’. 
You can’t even prove it exists, because you can’t touch it.” 

“Yet your scientists have come to the conclusion that 
thought is something tangible.” 

“They have, but since you still can’t actually touch it, it’s not 
something you can get completely set in your mind.” 



6 o 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


“But when you write your book, people will be able to touch it, 
they can hold it in their hands. Like a materialised thought.” 

‘Again you’re carrying on about that book! I’ve told you, 
I don’t believe in it either. Even less in your claim that you, 
with the help of certain combinations of letters known only 
to you, can arouse feelings in the reader — bright feelings yet, 
that will help the reader make some sense of it all.® 

“I told you how it works.” 

“Ees, you told me. But it still doesn’t make me believe. If 
I try to write, I shan’t tell everything all at once. People will 
laugh at me... You know something, Anastasia, can I tell you 
in all honesty?” 

“Yes, tell me in all honesty” 

“Only don’t be offended, okay?” 

“I shall not be offended.” 

“Everything you’ve talked up to me I’m going to have to 
verify with our scholars, and see what they say about it in vari- 
ous religious and modern teachings. There’s a lot of different 
courses out there now, a lot of preachers.” 

“Go ahead and verify, by all means.” 

“And still, I feel you’re a very kind person. Your philosophy 
is interesting, quite unusual. But if you compare your actions 
with those of others who are concerned about the soul, about 
ecology, well, frankly, you’re way behind the rest.” 

“Why should you conclude that?” 

“Think about it. All the enlightened people, as you call 
them, have gone off by themselves at some point. Buddha 
went off for seven years into the forest and set up a whole 
doctrinal platform, and he has a lot of followers throughout 
the world. Christ Jesus wen t off just for forty days, and even 
now people are excited about his teachings.” 

“Christ Jesus went off by himself more than once,” Anas- 
tasia pointed out. ‘And he did a lot of thinking when he was 
travelling about.” 



The answer 


61 


“So let’s say more than forty days, let’s say a year even. The 
elders, who are now considered saints, were ordinary people 
who went into the forest to live in isolation for a time, then 
later monasteries were built on these sites, and a lot of follow- 
ers arose, right?” 

“Yes, Vladimir, you are right.” 

“And here you’ve been living twenty-six years now in the 
forest, and you don’t even have a single follower. You haven’t 
come up with any platform. And here you’re asking me to 
write a book. You’re grasping at that like a straw. You dream 
of laying out your own combinations of signs in it. Well, 
if things aren’t working out for you like with other leaders, 
maybe it’s not even worth trying. There are others more 
capable than you who may well think up something with- 
out your input. Come on, why not get real and live more 
simply? I’ll help you adapt in our world. Now, you’re not 
offended, eh?” 

“No, I am not offended.” 

“Then I’ll tell you the whole truth, right to the end. To 
help you get a hold of yourself.” 

“Go on.” 

“You have some extraordinary abilities, Anastasia, there’s 
no doubt about that. You can pick up any information you 
want as easily as counting one-two-three. But tell me now, 
when did you first become aware of that Ray of yours?” 

“It was given to me right at the start, as it is to everybody 
Only my awareness of it, and how to use it — that was some- 
thing Great-Grandfather taught me by the time I was six.” 

“So. That means at six years of age you were already able 
to see what was going on in our lives? You could analyse situa- 
tions, help people — even treat illnesses at a distance?” 

“Yes, I could.” 

“Now, tell me, what have you been doing all the twenty 
years since?” 



6 2 


Book v. The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


“I have been telling you and showing you. I have been work- 
ing with the people you call dachniks. Trying to help them.” 

‘All these twenty years, day in and day out?” 

“Yes, sometimes even at night, if I was not too tired.” 

“So, you’ve been acting like an obsessed fanatic, stubbornly 
holding on to the dachniks all these years? Who made you do 
this?” 

“Nobody can make me. I did it of my own free will. After 
Great-Grandfather suggested it to me, I realised for myself 
what a good thing, how important it was.” 

“You know, I think your great-grandfather suggested the 
dachniks to you because he felt sorry for you. After all, you 
grew up without your parents. He gave you the very easiest 
and simplest task. Now that he’s seen you’ve begun to under- 
stand something greater, he’s given you permission to work 
with other things. And to drop the dachniks.” 

“But this other is connected with the people you call 
dachniks. And I shall continue to help them. I love them 
very much and I shall never abandon them.” 

“Now that’s what I call fanaticism. There’s something in 
you that you don’t have enough of to be a normal person. 
You must understand that. The dachniks are far from being 
the most important people in our society. They have abso- 
lutely no influence at all over social development. Dachas 
and vegetable gardens — they’re just small subsistence plots. 
It’s where people go to relax after their hard work or when 
they go into retirement. And that’s all. You understand? 
That’s it! And if you, with all your colossal knowledge and 
phenomenal abilities, are only interested in dachniks, then 
you must have some kind of psychological disorder. I think 
I ought to take you to a psychotherapist. If you can get that 
disorder cured, then just maybe you’ll really be in a position 
to help society.” 

“I very much want to help society” 



The answer 


63 


“So then, let’s go — I’ll take you to a practising psycho- 
therapist at a good private clinic. You yourself said a global 
catastrophe could happen. This way you’ll be able to help 
ecological movements, you’ll be able to help science.” 

“But I shall be an even greater help if I stay here.” 

‘All right, you can come back here later and start getting 
involved in more serious issues.” 

“What do you mean, ‘more serious?” 

‘You decide. Probably something connected, for example, 
with heading off an ecological disaster or a global catastrophe. 
By the way, do you have any idea when the latter might occur?” 

“There are localised disasters happening even now in vari- 
ous parts of the Earth. Mankind has been preparing every- 
thing and more for its own destruction for a long time now” 

“But when will it happen on a global scale — when will the 
apocalypse come?” 

“It might occur in 2002, for example. But it can be pre- 
vented, or delayed, as happened in 1992.” 

“You mean to say it might have come to pass in 1992?” 

“Yes, but they delayed it.” 

“Who are ‘they? Who averted it? Who delayed it?” 

“A catastrophe on a global scale in 1992 was averted thanks 
to the dachniks.” 

“Wha-a-at?!” 

“There are all sorts of people all over the world who are 
working against global disaster. The 1992 catastrophe did not 
happen mainly thanks to the Russian dachniks.” 

‘And you... that means you!... Even at six years old you 
were aware of the dachniks’ significance? You foresaw it? You 
worked non-stop. You helped them.” 

“I understood the dachniks’ significance, Vladimir.” 



Chapter Nine 


“But why Russian dachniks in particular? What’s the connec- 
tion here?” 

“You see, Vladimir, even though the Earth is very large, it 
is very, very sensitive. 

“Think of how big you are by comparison with a tiny mos- 
quito. And yet, when a mosquito lands on you, you feel it 
through your skin. And the Earth also feels — everything. 
When people pave it over with concrete and asphalt, when 
they cut down trees and burn the forests growing on it, when 
they pick and poke at its innards and sprinkle it with powder 
called fertiliser, it feels the hurt. And yet still it loves people, 
as a mother loves her children. 

‘And the Earth tries to absorb into its depths all humanity’s 
anger, and only when it no longer has the strength to hold it 
back, that anger explodes in the form of volcanic eruptions 
and earthquakes. 

“The Earth needs our help. Tenderness and a loving atti- 
tude give it strength. The Earth may be large, but it is most 
sensitive. And it feels the tender caress of even a single hu- 
man hand. Oh, how it feels and anticipates this touch! 

“There was a time in Russia when the Earth 1 was deemed 
to belong to everyone and therefore nobody in particular. So 


l the Earth (Russian: Zemlid) — in this case denoting the land, especially ar- 
able land. The reference here is to the early Soviet period of Russian his- 
tory, when the Bolshevik government took the country’s farmland out of 



Dachnik Day and an All-Earth holiday l 


65 


people did not think of it as their own. Then changes came in 
Russia. They began giving out tiny private plots to people to 
go with their dachas. 

“It was no coincidence at all that these plots were extremely 
small, too small to cultivate with mechanised equipment. But 
Russians, yearning for contact with the Earth, took to them 
with joyous enthusiasm. They went to people both poor and 
rich. Because nothing can break Man’s connection with the 
Earth! 

‘After obtaining their little plots of land, people intuitively 
felt their worth. And millions of pairs of human hands be- 
gan touching the Earth with love. With their hands, you un- 
derstand, not with mechanised tools, lots and lots of people 
touched the ground caressingly on these little plots. And the 
Earth felt this, it felt it very much. It felt the blessing touch 
of each individual hand upon it. And the Earth found new 
strength to carry on.” 

“So, what now?” I queried. “Should we erect a monument 
to every dachnik as the saviour of the planet?” 

“Yes, Vladimir, they are saviours indeed.” 

“But that would be far too many monuments! I have it! Why 
not set up a one- or two-day national holiday? Dachnik Day, or 
an All-Earth Day, it could be designated in the calendar.” 

“Oooh, a holiday!” Anastasia threw up her arms in elation. 
“What a terrific idea indeed! A celebration! A happy and 
cheerful holiday — that is something we definitely need!” 

‘And you with that Ray of yours can suggest to our govern- 
ment, to our deputies in the State Duma , 2 that they pass the 
required legislation.” 


the hands of its individual peasant owners and declared it state property. It 
was not until 1993 that the right to private ownership of land was restored 
in Russia’s new Constitution. 

” Duma (pronounced DOO-ma) — Russia’s national parliament. 



66 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


“I cannot get through to them. They are too busy with their 
daily routine. They have so many decisions to make, they 
have absolutely no time to think. Besides, there is not much 
point in my attempting to raise their conscious awareness. It 
would be difficult for them to accept a complete conscious 
picture of reality They are not allowed to make any better 
resolutions than those they are passing at the moment.” 

“Who can stop the government or the president from so 
doing?” 

“You. The masses. The majority. As for correct decisions, 
they are what you call ‘unpopular measures’.” 

“Yes, you’re right. We have democracy The most impor- 
tant decisions are taken by the majority The majority is al- 
ways right.” 

“The greatest conscious awareness is always achieved first 
by individuals, Vladimir. It always takes the majority a space 
of time to catch on.” 

“If that’s true, then why do we need democracy, referen- 
dums?” 

“They are needed to serve as a shock-absorber, to avoid 
sudden jerks. When these shock-absorbers do not work, rev- 
olution occurs. A revolutionary period is always a challenge 
for the majority” 

“But zDachnikDay? — that’s not revolution. What’s wrong 
with it?” 

‘A holiday like that is fine. It is needed. Definitely needed. 
It should be set up as quickly as possible. I shall think about 
how it can be done as quickly as possible.” 

“I’ll help you. I know better which levers to pull in our 
world for the most effective results. I’ll write to the papers... 
No, better still, I’ll write about the dachniks in that book of 
yours and ask people to send telegrams to the government 
and the Duma, requesting the establishment of a Dachnik 
Day as an All-Earth holiday Only what date should it be?” 



Dachnik Day and an All-Earth holiday ! 


67 


“The 23rd of July:” 

“Why the 23rd?” 

“It is an appropriate day. Also because it is your birthday 
Vladimir. After all, this fantastic idea is all yours!” 

“That’s great. So, we’ll ask people to send telegrams asking 
for legislation setting up the 23rd of July as Dachnik Day and 
an All-Earth holiday And as soon as the telegrams start arriv- 
ing at the Duma and people begin to wonder why people are 
sending them, you burst in with your Ray!” 

“Burst in I shall! I shall burst in with all my might! And 
it will be a fine, bright and beautiful holiday! For everyone! 
Everyone will have such a good time and the whole Earth will 
rejoice in its light!” 

“Why does everybody have to have a good time? This holi- 
day’s only for dachniks, isn’t it?” 

“We must see that everyone has a good time. This holiday 
will indeed begin in Russia. But then it will become the most 
fantastic holiday for the world as a whole. A marvellous holi- 
day for the soul.” 

‘And how will it be celebrated the first time in Russia?” I 
enquired. “Nobody will know what to make of it.” 

“Each one’s heart will suggest on that day what he should 
do and how: I can visualise a general outline right now.” 

Then Anastasia began talking, clearly enunciating each 
word. She talked with both speed and inspiration. It was all 
most extraordinary — the rhythm of her speech, the arrange- 
ment of her phrases, the pronunciation of her words: 

May all of Russia wake that day at dawn. May people alone, 
or with friends and family, come to the land and stand upon it 
with bare feet. Those who have their little plot of land, let them 
greet with praise the first rays of the Sun amidst the shoots and 
seedlings they have planted. And touch each species with caress- 
ing hands. 



68 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


As the Sun rises in the sky, let them pick and taste the fruit of their 
plantings, one from each variety, and that should suffice them, up ’til 
the mid-day meal. 

Before the meal let them tend their plots anew. Let each one pon- 
der, their life and joy, and what they are destined to do. 

Let each remember their family and friends with love. And pon- 
der why their planted seeds are growing and designate the purpose 
of every plant. 

And even before the mid-day feast everyone should spend at least 
an hour by themselves. It is not important how or where or exactly 
when, but they should be alone for a spell. To spend at least an hour 
in an effort to look within themselves. 

Let the whole family gather for the meal in the middle of the day. 
Those living at home and those who have come from far away. Let 
dinner be prepared from what the Earth has borne for the hour of 
repast. Let every one bring to the whole table whatever is desired 
by his heart and soul. Let all the family members look each other 
lovingly in the eye. And let the eldest bless the table together with 
the youngest. And let the table all around with quiet conversation 
resound. There should be good words spoken. About all those who 
sit beside you. 

The scene Anastasia described was so extraordinarily vivid 
that I could feel myself sitting at the table, with people all 
around. I found myself caught up in the celebration — I was 
believing in it or, rather, I was participating in it. And I felt 
led to contribute a feature of my own: 

“There should be a toast before dinner. Everyone raise 
their glass. Let’s drink to the Earth, let’s drink to love!” 

I actually felt I was holding the glass in my hand. 

Then suddenly she broke into my reverie: 

“Vladimir, please let there be no alcoholic poison on the 
table.” 

The glass vanished from my hand. 



Dachnik Day and an All-Earth holiday ! 


69 


“Stop it, Anastasia! Don’t spoil the celebration!” 

“Well, since you have your mind set on it, let there be some 
wine from berries, but this must be imbibed in very small 
sips.” 

‘All right, wine it is, then. Just so as not to change our hab- 
its all at once. And after the dinner, then what shall we do?” 

Let the people return to the cities and towns, having gathered the 
fruit they have grown on their little plots of ground. Let them bear 
it in baskets and share it with everyone at home who do not have 
plots of their own. 

Oh, how many positive feelings will come from this day! They 
will bring about healings of many peoples diseases. Diseases which 
threatened with death and those not erased by time will simply 
vanish. Let those who are incurably or even slightly ill go out and 
meet the flood of dachniks returning from their plots. The rays of 
Love and of good, along with the fruits of their labours will heal 
diseases. 

Look and see! Look at the city’s main railway station, where 
floods of people are arriving with baskets of flowers. Look and see 
the people’s eyes glimmering with kindness, joy and peace. 

Anastasia was virtually glowing with a radiance, as she be- 
came more and more inspired with the idea of the holiday. 
Her eyes were no longer merely shining with joy, they were 
literally sparkling with a pale-blue luminescence. The ex- 
pression on her face was changing, yet still remained joyful, 
as though a mighty flood of images of this celebration were 
rushing through her brain. 

All at once she fell silent. Then, bending one leg at the 
knee and lifting up her right arm, she sprang from the ground 
with a tremendous recoil, virtually taking flight like an arrow 
shot from the Earth. She leapt almost as high as the bottom 
branches of the cedars. Upon landing, she waved her arm, 



7 o 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


clapped her hands, and a bluish glow flooded the glade. All 
the words Anastasia now uttered seemed to be echoed by 
each tiny bug and blade of grass and each majestic cedar. Her 
voice sounded as though it were being reinforced by a hidden 
power. Even though her words were not that loud, it seemed 
as though they could be heard by every vein running through 
the unfathomable expanse of the Universe. 

Mother Russia will greet crowds of guests on that day ! They are 
all of the Earth as Atlanteans born! As prodigal sons they shall re- 
turn. 

On that day, all over Russia, let everyone awake and greet the 
dawn. Let all the strings of the harp of the Universe make cheerful 
melody and swell with resonant sound. Let all the bards sing and tell 
with joy fid tongue and play guitars in all the streets, in every yard 
around. And he who is too old will once again be young as many, 
many years ago. 

‘And I, Anastasia, will I be young once more?” 

Both you and I, Vladimir, shall be young and people will feel 
young for the very first time. And the old shall write letters to their 
children. And children to their parents. And infants taking their 
very first steps on Earth shall enter a better world of joy and mirth. 
And on that day no child shall feel insulted. For adults shall treat 
children as their equals. 

And all the gods on high will to the Eatth descend. And will com- 
mend themselves to take on simple forms. 

And God Himself the Universal God will be delighted. May Ton 
rejoice too in Love, making all the Earth so bright! 

Anastasia was really getting carried away with images of the 
holiday She was whirling around the glade in a fiery dance, 
becoming more and more inspired at every step. 



Dachnik Day and an All-Earth holiday ! 


7i 


“Stop! Stop!” I cried to Anastasia, suddenly realising that 
she was taking it all too seriously. She was not merely uttering 
words. I now realised her every word and novel turn of phrase 
was actually a visualisation! She was visualising images of the 
celebration! And with her typical stubbornness she will go on 
visualising and dreaming about it until the dream turns into 
reality. Like a diehard fanatic she will dream! She will give her 
all to those dachniks, just as she has done for the past twenty 
years. And I cried out to stop her: 

“What’s going on? Don’t you understand? All that stuff 
about a holiday — it’s all just in fun! I was just teasing!” 

Anastasia suddenly stopped in her tracks. No sooner did I 
catch a glimpse of her than I felt a big lump in my throat from 
the look on her face. Her face looked bewildered like that of 
a child. She looked at me with pain and pity, as though I were 
an unremitting attacker. And almost in a whisper she started 
saying: 

Vladimir, I took it seriously. I have already visualised it all. 
And to life’s chain of events people’s forthcoming telegrams have al- 
ready interwoven a link. The order of events will be broken without 
thetn, I have accepted your words, believed them, and brought them 
to pass. I perceived you were speaking of the holiday and telegrams 
sincerely. Do not take back the words that you have spoken. Just 
help me with the telegrams, so that I may, as you said, offer assistance 
with my Ray. 

“Okay, I’ll try, only don’t panic, — maybe it’ll end up that 
nobody will even want to send the telegrams.” 

There will be people who will comprehend. They will feel it in 
the government and in your Duma as well. And a holiday there will 
be! It will arise ! Time will tell! Look here! 



72 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


And once again celebration images passed before my eyes. 

There ! — I’ve written about it. Now you can go and do as 
your heart and soul dictates . 3 


3 In 199S, one year after this book was first published in Russian, the gover- 
nor of St. Petersburg, Vladimir Yakovlev, instituted a Gardeners’ Day, giving 
the residents of St. Petersburg and the surrounding region an additional 
day off to spend on their garden-plots. Since then this example has been 
followed by many regional authorities and A while not yet instituted on 
the national level — the holiday is officially celebrated in dozens of cities 
and regions throughout Russia. The date of the holiday varies from region 
to region. 



Chapter Ten 




“What do you mean, Anastasia, by such extraordinary turns 
of phrase in speaking about the holiday? You pronounced 
each word in such a tone that every sound was crystal clear 
on its own!” 

“I tried to reproduce a picture of the holiday with preci- 
sion, to use detailed images.” 

“But what about the words? What particular significance 
do they have?” 

“Upon each word was borne a multitude of happy pictures 
and events. And now they will all come true. For thought 
and word, you understand, are the principle instrument of 
the Grand Creator. An instrument bestowed not on all that 
grows with flesh and bones, but just alone to Man.” 

“Then why doesn’t everything that people say come to pass?” 

“When the thread between the spoken word and the soul 
is broken, when the soul is found empty and the image dulled, 
then what is said, though it be plenty, is as empty as chaotic 
sound. And nothing can it betoken.” 

“That’s sheer fantasy! Come on now, you let yourself be- 
lieve in everything, like a naive child.” 

“How can it be a fantasy, Vladimir?! After all, I could give 
hundreds of examples from the world you live in, and even 
from your own life, as to what power a word has when it 
projects the image connected with it!” 

“Then give me an example I can understand.” 

‘An example? Here is one. A person is standing on the 
stage before an audience and speaking words. An actor, for 



74 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

instance. He will repeat the same words people have heard 
many times before, but there is only one actor people will 
listen to with bated breath. Another they will not adore. 
The words are the same, but there is avast difference in how 
they are declaimed. What do you think? Why does that 
happen?” 

“Well, that’s actors for you. They spend years studying at 
drama school — some are outstanding in their profession, 
others just so-so. They memorise their lines at rehearsals so 
that they can say them with expression.” 

“They are taught at drama school, Vladimir, how to get 
inside the image that underlies the word. Then they try to 
reproduce that image during rehearsals. And if an actor suc- 
ceeds in projecting even ten percent of the invisible images 
underlying the words he utters, the audience will then listen 
with their whole attention. And if he should succeed in pro- 
jecting the images behind half of his words, you will indeed 
call that actor a genius. For his soul is speaking directly with 
the souls of those sitting or standing in the auditorium. And 
during the play people will laugh or cry as they feel in their 
soul what the actor desires to convey Such is the instrument 
of the Grand Creator.” 

‘And you, whenever you speak, with how many words can 
you project the corresponding image — ten percent, or fif- 
ty?” _ i , 

“With all of them. That is the way Great-Grandfather 
taught me.” 

‘All of them? Really?! All the words?!” 

“Great-Grandfather said it is even possible to project the 
images contained in the letters of the alphabet. And I learnt 
how to come up with an image for each letter.” 

“Why letters? Letters don’t mean anything.” 

“Letters do mean something! Behind every letter in San- 
skrit, for example, there are words, even whole phrases. 



The ringing sword of the bard 


15 


There are letters there too, and beyond them many written 
words, so that infinity is hidden in every letter.” 

“Well isn’t that something?! And we just splutter out our 
words.” 

“Yes, that is what happens to words that have been passed 
down to us over thousands of years. They have passed through 
and penetrated time and space. And the forgotten images un- 
derlying them still today are once more attempting to knock 
on the door of the human race. And they watch out for our 
souls, and even go to war on their behalf.” 

‘And what kind of words are these? Is there at least one 
that might be familiar to me?” 

“Of course there is. At least as a sound you have heard. But 
people have forgotten what underlies these words.” 

Anastasia lowered her eyelids and sat silent for a while. 
Then, very quietly, almost in a whisper, she asked me: 

“Vladimir, please pronounce the word bard.” 

“Bard,” I said. 

She shuddered, almost as though in pain, and said: 

“Oh, the indifference and banality in your pronunciation 
of that majestic word! You blew a cold gust of emptiness and 
neglect upon the candle’s restless flickering flame. A flame 
that has been connected through the centuries and possibly 
even addressed to you or someone else living today by a dis- 
tant forebear. Forgetfulness of our derivation is the cause of 
our modern devastation.” 

‘And just what didn’t you like about my pronunciation? 
What should I be remembering in connection with that 
word?” 

Anastasia fell silent. Then in a quiet voice she began utter- 
ing phrases straight out of antiquity: 

“Long before Christ’s birth there lived certain people on 
the Earth — our forefathers, who were called Celts. Their 
wise teachers were known as Druids. Many peoples inhabiting 



7 6 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


the Earth at that time knelt before the Druids’ knowledge of 
the material and spiritual worlds. Not a single Celtic warrior 
would dare unsheathe his sword in the presence of a Druid. To 
be awarded the title of Druid even at the starting level, they 
had to undergo at least twenty years of arduous training at 
the hands of a spiritual teacher — a Druid priest. Those who 
were consecrated in this domain were known as Bards. They 
alone had the moral authority to go out among the people and 
sing about and inculcate the light and truth contained in their 
song, using words to project images and heal people’s hearts. 

“The Celts fell subject to attacks by Roman legions. Their 
last battle took place at a river. The Romans noticed that there 
were women walking among the Celtic warriors — women 
with long, flowing hair. Experienced Roman commanders, 
though knowing what this meant — that they would have to 
outnumber the Celts six to one in order to defeat them, were 
unaware of the reason why Nor do modern historians and 
researchers have a complete explanation. It all had to do with 
these unarmed women with their long, flowing hair. 

“The Romans surged in with a mighty force, outnumber- 
ing the Celts nine to one. Aligned with their backs up against 
the river, the last family of fighting Celts was on the verge of 
defeat. 

“They stood strong in a semicircle. Behind them was a 
young woman, breast-feeding a wee baby girl, and singing. 
The young mother sang a bright and cheerful song, so as 
not to instil doleful fear in the little one’s soul — so that she 
would be left with images of light. 

“Whenever the little one tore herself away from her moth- 
er’s breast, their eyes would meet. The woman would cease her 
singing and each time tenderly utter her baby’s name: Barda. 

“Soon there was no longer any semicircle to defend the 
pair. All that stood between the nursing mother and the flood 
of Roman legionnaires making their way along the narrow 



The ringing sword of the bard 


77 


path was a young and blood-gored Bard armed only with a 
sword. He turned to look at the woman, their eyes met and 
they smiled at each other. 

“The wounded Bard managed to stave off the Romans while 
the woman went down to the river and put her wee baby girl 
into a little boat and pushed it away from the riverbank. 

“With one last great effort of will-power, the bleeding Bard 
threw down his weapon at the woman’s feet. She took up his 
sword, and fought for four hours straight with the legion- 
naires on the narrow path, preventing them from reaching 
the shore. Their strength became spent and they spelled each 
other off on the narrow path. 

“The Roman commanders looked on in silent astonish- 
ment, but could not understand how strong and experienced 
soldiers could not come close enough to even scratch the 
woman’s body 

“For four bruising hours she fought the flood of Roman 
attackers. Then the woman’s lungs gave out, dried up with 
dehydration as no liquid had touched her tongue, and drips of 
blood began oozing from her cracked, beautiful lips. 

“Slowly sinking to her knees, her strength waning all the 
while, she still managed one more faint smile in the direction 
of the little boat carrying away her wee Barda, a future song- 
stress, downstream with the current. And one more gleam 
of the word and its image which have been carried down 
through the millennia for the benefit of many living upon the 
Earth today 

“Man’s being is not only in the flesh. Man’s invisible feel- 
ings, aspirations and sensations are immeasurably sharper 
and greater than what can be discerned by the eye or ear. As 
in a mirror, they are but partially reflected in the visible mate- 
rial state. 

“The baby Barda grew into girlhood, and later became a 
woman and a mother. She lived on the Earth and sang. Her 



78 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

songs imparted to people only bright feelings and, like the all- 
healing Ray, helped them chase away the gloominess of the 
heart. Many of life’s afflictions and deprivations tried to ex- 
tinguish the source of this Ray. The hi dden forces of darkness 
tried to break through to it, but could not overcome the one 
obstacle in their way, the Bard and his wife who stood loom- 
ing before them on the narrow path. 

“Man’s essence is not in the flesh, Vladimir. The Bard’s 
bleeding body projected into eternity the smile of his soul’s 
blessed light, reflecting the unseen essence of Man. 

‘And the lungs of the young mother holding the sword gave 
out after awhile, blood dripped, then poured from the cracks 
in her lips, which had caught the Bard’s bright smile. 

“And now, Vladimir, believe in me. Understand and see! 
And you will hear the ring of the invisible sword of the Bard, 
beating back the attack of the dark and angry forces on the 
path to the hearts of his descendants today. 

“Now, please pronounce the word Bard once again, 
Vladimir.” 

“I can’t. Not until I can say it with the proper meaning. 
Then I shall most certainly pronounce it.” 

“Thank you for not attempting it, Vladimir.” 

“Tell me, Anastasia — after all, you are able to tell. Who 
among those living today are the direct descendants of that 
nursing mother and the girl — the songstress Barda? Of the 
Bard-warrior who stood on the narrow path? Who can forget 
something as important as his ancestry?” 

“Tell me, Vladimir, why this question came to your 
thought.” 

“I want to get a good look at that person or persons who 
have forgot such things. Those who do not remember where 
they came from. Those without feeling for the same.” 

“Perhaps you want to make certain that you are not the one 
who is forgetting?” 



The ringing sword of the bard 


79 


“Now what does that...? Never mind, Anastasia, I’ve got 
it now You needn’t give it another thought. Let each person 
figure it out for themselves.” 

“Fine,” she replied and fell silent, looking at me. 

And I too kept silent for a time, reflecting on the pictures 
Anastasia had painted, and then I asked her: 

“Why did you choose that particular word as an exam- 
ple?” 

“To show you how the images underlying it in the real 
world will soon take visible form. Guitar strings in swarms 
are now vibrating under the fingers of today’s Russian bards. 
Even back when I was dreaming about it all in the taiga, these 
bards were the first to feel the images. Their hearts and their 
souls... 

‘At first it was only in one of them that flared a flickering 
burning flame and the delicate resonance of a guitar string, 
but then the souls of others caught the rhythm and joined 
in. Soon their songs will be heard by many both near and far. 
These are the bards who will help us behold the new dawn. 
The dawn of enlightenment of human hearts and souls. You 
shall hear their songs. And these will be new songs, songs of 
the awakening dawn.” 1 


’Since this bookwas first published in 1997, Russian bards have written hun- 
dreds of songs inspired by Anastasia. Numerous song festivals have taken 
place throughout Russia, and multiple song albums have appeared. Many 
of the bards have become wanderers, travelling in groups of up to fifty sing- 
ers and giving free concerts all over Russia, spreading the message of light, 
happiness and the healing of the Earth. 



Chapter Eleven 



A sharp about-turn 


Returning to the ship after my three-day stay with Anasta- 
sia, it was some time before I was in a frame of mind to take 
charge of company business. At first I was unable either to 
decide on the ship’s next destination or answer the many radi- 
ograms coming in from Novosibirsk. And the hired workers, 
and even some of my crew, apparently sensed my inattention 
to the daily routine and began stealing. They were arrested by 
the police from Surgut (the town where the ship was docked) 
working with my bodyguards, and detention papers were 
drawn up, but even this was not something I felt like delving 
into at the time. 

It’s hard to say at the moment just why my talks with Anas- 
tasia had such a strong effect on me. 

Before this my firm had received many visits from rep- 
resentatives of all sorts of religious denominations. They 
claimed they wanted to do something good for society and al- 
ways asked for money Sometimes I would oblige just so they 
would go away, without looking too deeply into the cause they 
were collecting for. And what was the point of asking them 
more questions if the conversation always ended up with a 
request for money? 

In contrast to all these so-called ‘religious’ people, Anas- 
tasia never asked for money In any case, I couldn’t even im- 
agine what I could give her. Outwardly it seemed she had 
nothing, and yet I gradually got the impression that she had 
everything. I gave orders for the ship to proceed full speed to 
Novosibirsk and holed myself away in my cabin to think. 



A sharp about-turn 


81 


My more than ten years’ experience in business and team- 
management had taught me a lot. The highs and lows I had 
gone through had given me the skills I needed to seek and find 
a way out of all sorts of tricky situations. This time, however, 
I felt I was at rock bottom. All the troubles imaginable came 
upon me simultaneously. The failure of the firm appeared 
imminent. One of the so-called ‘well-wishers’ had already 
started a rumour, now increasing in currency, that something 
had happened to me and that I was no longer capable of mak- 
ing sound business decisions. So, people concluded, it was 
sauve qui pent, every man for himself. And that’s exactly what 
happened. Upon my return I saw how people were saving 
themselves. Even my relatives had their hand in it, pilfering 
what they could from the company “It’s all going to go broke 
anyway!” they figured. 

There was just one small group of my long-time employees 
who had tried to withstand the onslaught. But after the ar- 
rival of the lead ship, upon seeing what kind of literature I 
had my nose into, even they became worried about my mental 
state. 

I myself had a perfectly clear and sober perspective on 
what was happening. I was fully aware that I was no longer 
in any position to manage this team effectively Even those I 
had earlier trusted as my tried and true supporters were now 
starting to cast doubt upon any decision I took. 

Even though I very much wanted to tell everyone who 
would listen about Anastasia, it hardly seemed possible to 
count on anybody’s understanding. It might even land me in 
the loony bin. My family were already starting to talk about 
what kind of treatment I needed. 

Without saying so in so many words, those around me were 
demanding I get back down to earth and come up with a busi- 
ness plan, and a successful one at that. They dismissed my 
latest distraction as either madness or a nervous breakdown. 



82 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


I had really begun thinking about all sorts of things in this life 
of ours. 

“What’s going on here?” I thought. “You hustle through 
one commercial operation and even earn big money, but 
where’s the satisfaction? You immediately want more. And 
it’s been going on like that for over ten years now! Where’s 
the guarantee that this race won’t last my whole life long with- 
out so much as a whiff of satisfaction?! One person gets upset 
because he doesn’t have enough money for a bottle of vodka. 
A billionaire gets upset because he doesn’t have enough for 
some major acquisition or another. Maybe it’s not the amount 
of money that counts?” 

One morning two old acquaintances of mine — both en- 
trepreneurs in charge of big commercial firms — came to see 
me at my office. I started talking with them about setting up 
a commonwealth of pure-minded entrepreneurs, about the 
purpose and goals of our business activities. After all, I just 
had to share all this with somebody. They played along, nod- 
ding now and then in agreement. It was a long conversation, 
and I ended up thinking to myself: can it be that they actually 
grasped it? — they did spend a lot of time discussing it, after 
all! Later my driver told me: 

“You know, Vladimir Nikolaevich , 1 they were asked to come 
and see you. By people concerned about your health. They 
wanted to know what you’ve been preoccupied with all this 
time, what’s been on your mind. In short, to make sure you 
haven’t lost your mind. They wanted to know whether they 
should call in a psychiatrist or simply wait and let it pass.” 


l Nikolaevich (most often pronounced ni-ka-LIE-yitcb} — Vladimir Megre’s 
patronymic (a middle name derived from one’s father's first name). In 
Russian the combination of the first name and patronymic is the stan- 
dard polite form of address among business acquaintances, especially to 
a superior. 



A sharp about-turn 


83 


‘And what do you think of my mental state?” 

He fell silent for a while, and then said quietly: 

“For ten years your work’s gone along just great. Many 
in the city have said you’re a successful businessman. But 
now all your employees are afraid they may be left without a 
paycheque.” 

It was only then I realised the extent of people’s concern 
about me, and I said to the driver: 

“Turn the car around.” 

I went back to the office. I called an emergency staff 
meeting. I appointed supervisors for the company’s various 
activities and gave them full authority to act in my absence. I 
then told the driver to pick me up early the next morning and 
take me to the airport. Just as I was about to go through the 
boarding gate, he handed me something wrapped in a towel. 
It was warm. I asked: 

“What is it?” 

“Pirozhki. ” 2 

“So, you’re giving me these out of compassion for a cra- 
zy person, eh?” 

“They’re from my wife, Vladimir Nikolaevich. She couldn’t 
sleep, and baited all night. She’s never baked anything before, 
she’s still a pretty young woman, but last night she plunged 
right in. She insisted I give them to you. She wrapped them 
in a towel — they’re still warm. She says... you won’t be back 
for awhile. If you come back at all... This is good-bye.” 

‘All right, then. Thank you very much.” 

He resigned from the firm a few days later. 


~ Pirozhki ( ptonouncedpee-rash-KEE ) — Russian pastry with a filling, akin to 
Ukrainian pierogies. A quintessential^ home-made dish ,pirozhki are often 
the highlights of family gatherings and celebrations. A gift of pirozhki de- 
notes a loving attitude on the part of the giver. 



Chapter Twelve 



Seated on the airplane I closed my eyes. The plane’s course 
was set with precision. It was headed for Moscow. The course 
of the rest of my life was still to be set. But I was thinking 
more about entrepreneurs. 

Many people today still tend to regard entrepreneurs as 
people who are constantly working out business deals, having 
amassed their initial capital by some illegal means and mul- 
tiplying it at the expense of those around them. Naturally, 
just as in any other segment of our society, there are entre- 
preneurs and then there are entrepreneurs. However, having 
been right at the centre of entrepreneurial life in our country 
from the very beginning of perestroika, I can tell you that the 
majority of the first wave of post-communist entrepreneurs 
made their initial capital by looking for unorthodox solutions 
for producing new merchandise or goods which had been in 
short supply, and finding more efficient ways of structuring 
manufacturing operations. 

It was a peculiar characteristic of Soviet and Russian en- 
trepreneurs to make money from scratch — i.e., starting 
with nothing, not even credit. After all, the first wave of 
entrepreneurs had no access to privatised factories that the 
next wave enjoyed. They had to fly by the seat of their pants 
and hope they would be lucky. And they did make money 
from scratch. By way of proof, let me cite an example from 
my own experience. 



Chapter Thirteen 



Back before perestroika I was in charge of a small unit in a pho- 
tographic collective. It included lab technicians and a number 
of roving photographers. Everyone had both a salary and ad- 
ditional perks, which allowed us to make a fairly decent living 
for the time. Each member of our unit received a percentage 
of the total profits. Naturally we wanted more. But for that 
we had to find more clients. I managed to hit upon a solution. 
Anyone who wishes is free to copy it, even today. 

One day while I was travelling on a highway in my hump- 
backed Zaporozhets 1 1 got a tyre puncture. While getting the 
tyre repaired I watched the cars passing by one after another 
and thought to myself: “If only we could give all these driv- 
ers a chance to have their photo taken, there would be huge 
profits to be made!” 

It took but a few minutes to formulate a plan of action in 
my head — a plan whose realisation in practice would soon 
quadruple our unit’s profits. It worked this way: one of our 
photographers would stand at the side of the highway with 
a camera. He had two assistants with green armbands bear- 
ing the SB 2 insignia and brandishing batons like those used 

1 Zaporozhets — a popular and (relatively) inexpensive car manufactured dur- 
ing the Soviet period in the Ukrainian city of Zaporozhye. Its small size, 
low power, old-fashioned design and proclivity to break-downs have given 
it a reputation as an “inferior” vehicle, and both the car and its owners have 
become the butt of numerous jokes. 

~SB — Initials for Sluzbba byta, the common designation for service indus- 
tries in Russia. 



86 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


by the traffic police. Motorists would stop, thinking it was 
the “Green” or some other patrol . 3 Upon learning that it was 
simply a photo service being offered and that nobody was 
about to pounce on them or fine them or inspect their vehi- 
cle, drivers were happy to stand in front of their car (next to 
the licence plate) and have their picture taken. They gave the 
addresses where they would like the photos to be sent C.O.D. 
The licence-plate had to be showing just in case there was a 
mix-up in the addresses. 

We ended up offering this service on all the major highways 
leading to Novosibirsk over a six-month period. Then more 
and more we started encountering motorists who had already 
used the service. But during these six months our unit man- 
aged to realise a fairly decent income. 

Later I thought of starting a photo campaign to take pic- 
tures of residential houses, adding postcard phrases like “I 
live here”, “Home sweet home”, etc. 

People from our unit took pictures of thousands of houses. 
The demand turned out to be enormous. It got so that the 
photographers didn’t bother asking which residents wanted 
it — they would simply walk along and take pictures of every 
house on the street. A few days later the postal service would 
deliver the photos to each dwelling and collect payment. Peo- 
ple would send these snapshots to their children. Many said 
the pictures inspired the kids to come home for a visit. 

Before long the collective started having problems paying 
the members of our unit their salaries which, in the opinion 
of the management of the day, had exceeded all reasonable 
bounds. But there was little they could do about it, since eve- 
ryone in the collective was entitled to an equal share of their 
unit’s profits. 

3 Green patrol — referring to teams of environmental control officers, set 
up to help abate air pollution in Russia’s largest cities, and responsible for 
checking automobiles’ exhaust emissions (CO, CO,, CH, NO etc.). 



Money from scratch 


8? 


During the early days of perestroika, our unit detached itself 
from the collective and formed an independent co-operative. 
I was chosen its first chairman. 

This way we enjoyed greater freedom of movement. We 
had the opportunity to gather some seed money together and 
expand the scope of our operations. I began to think about 
new ventures to increase company profits. 

One day I happened to have a conversation with an ac- 
quaintance of mine who worked at the Institute of Theoreti- 
cal and Applied Mechanics. He was complaining that wages 
were being delayed or not paid at all, and that the lab unit 
was being threatened with dissolution. Where could they 
go, what could they do? They weren’t needed by anyone, it 
seemed. 

“What did your lab do before?” I asked him. 

“We made thermal gauge tape. Nobody needs it any- 
more.” 

“What was it used for?” 

‘All sorts of things,” he replied. He took a piece of a black 
tape out of his pocket and handed it to me.” 

“See for yourself,” he said. 

I took the piece in my hand, and all at once it turned green 
as I fingered it. I even threw it on the ground. 

“What kind of junk is that? It turns green! Now I’ve got to 
wash my hands,” I told him. To which he replied: 

“Don’t worry, it simply changed colour from the warmth of 
your hand. It’s supposed to react to changes in temperature. 
If the temperature of your hands had been above normal, it 
would have turned red. The green colour indicates a normal 
temperature.” 

The concept took off quickly. Our company began pro- 
ducing flat thermometers and stress-indicators. 

A piece of the tape was stuck onto a sheet of cardboard 
with bright coloured squares, each with a number beside it 



Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


indicating degrees of temperature, and , presto! — a new prod- 
uct was born. We had it distributed through the state ware- 
housing agency to many regions of the old Soviet Union (this 
was before the collapse of the USSR in 1991). 

Our production staff increased and everyone made a fairly 
decent living. Our seed capital was growing. The lab also 
came out of the red, since a share of the profits accrued to 
the Institute. 

Our co-operative acquired new equipment along with two 
vehicles. And then something happened which gave us an in- 
credible boost. 

One afternoon I arrived at the company office and noticed 
both our telephones in use. My secretary was on one of them, 
listening and taking down notes. The other telephone was 
being manned by the cleaning lady. No sooner had one of the 
phones been hung up than it started ringing again. At one 
point my secretary managed to tell me: 

“They’ve been ringing off the hook for over two hours 
already! One call after another non-stop! Everybody’s ask- 
ing for our thermometers and stress-indicators. One fellow 
cursed us, calling us pr e-perestroika dimwits. If we were will- 
ing to raise our prices, he said, he would buy them from us 
wholesale — at the higher price. They’re all placing bulk or- 
ders. They’re even ready to give us advance deposits.” 

During the early days of perestroika in our country, if you 
remember, there was quite a proliferation of manufactured 
kitsch on the market — plastic clip-on earrings, posters and 
calendars featuring semi-nude girls. Everyone snapped these 
things up like crazy. 

Against that background what we produced looked like a su- 
per novelty But after six months of production, sales suddenly 
took off with a bang. Something had happened, but what? 

It turned out that on a TV broadcast the previous 
night, foreign-affairs correspondent Vladimir Tsvetov was 



Money from scratch 


89 


commenting on how innovative the Japanese were, and 
showed a Japanese stress-indicator as an example. It looked 
just like ours. It was then that I realised for the first time the 
power of advertising and the nature of this beast called luck! 

Our staff began working three shifts a day round the clock. 
We hired workers to do the packing, trimming and finishing 
in their own homes. Profits steadily increased. We acquired 
a small passenger ship. I also decided to manufacture seeding 
equipment for independent farmers. I even chartered a large 
cruise ship to organise business tours and trade expeditions 
to the regions of the Russian Far North. 



Chapter Fourteen 



As head of my very own co-operative I got to know first-hand 
what a destructive force — one capable of crushing any ma- 
terial state of well-being — impatience toward each other 
and the break-down of mutual understanding can be. Later I 
learnt that this is the very reason behind the failure of many 
collectives. And it can all start over a trifle. 

Indeed, that’s how it happened with my first co-operative. 
Not only was it torn apart itself, but several families were de- 
stroyed in the process. Even today I still don’t know how to 
counteract this force which erupts spontaneously and is not 
subject to common sense! 

It all began when I decided to procure for our firm a country 
house with its own estate. I entrusted the details to our act- 
ing inventory and supply manager Alexey Mishunin. He drew 
up all the necessary sale-purchase documents, while I went to 
take a look at the property It included a large house, a fifth 
of a hectare of land, a bath-house, garage and greenhouse. We 
even got a cow and a flock of sheep in the bargain — not ex- 
actly a priority, but Mishunin said the owners had to go away 
and wanted to sell everything all at once. There was feed for 
the cow, and he had already arranged for a woman from the 
village to come in and do the milking. 

A couple of days later I called a meeting of the members 
of the co-operative to tell them about our acquisition. I ex- 
plained it was intended for entertaining guests, as well as be- 
ing a place where the members of the co-operative could relax 
and celebrate special occasions. We would all have to work 



A destructive force 91 

together to fix up the place, do some renovations and mod- 
ernise the kitchen. 

The male half of the co-operative greeted the idea with 
great enthusiasm. But the women began whispering among 
themselves. It wasn’t clear who the ringleader was, but my 
wife took on the role of spokesperson, saying the men had 
overstepped all recognised bounds of decency in respect to 
the women. 

“We work with you as equals here,” she declared. ‘After 
that we go home every day and clean house, cook meals and 
take care of the children. Does that seem trifling to you? And 
now you want us, in addition to all that, to work our asses off 
at this country house of yours, do renovations, and then be 
cooks and waitresses for your receptions and drinking par- 
ties?!” 

That was when all hell broke loose. The women poured 
out on the men all their personal and family grievances and 
other pet peeves. I realised this when one of them cried out: 

‘All you do is fool around with dominoes and stare at the 
tube the whole evening long!” 

I knew that none of the men at the co-operative played 
dominoes. It was her husband, a firefighter, who played. He 
didn’t even work for us. But wives of the co-operative work- 
ers were especially ‘pissed off’. One of them stupidly blurted 
out to her husband in front of everyone: 

“You always smell of sweat and cheap cigarettes,” — he was 
especially fond of the Prima brand — “and now you’re going 
to be smelling of cow-dung too?!” 

A silence hung over the room. The husband took a deep 
gulp of air, blushed and retorted: 

“I shall especially smell of cow-dung. Especially so that 
you won’t come near me, you slut!” 

At this she burst into tears. The women gathered around to 
console her. And it made them even more ‘pissed off’. They 



92 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


started hurling all sorts of insults. One of our workers was 
named Zhenya Kolpakov — he’d invented all sorts of devices 
to increase productivity, and could fix anything that needed 
fixing. But now they told him: 

“We have inventors here, but it takes a whole year to clean 
up after them!” 

Then the discussion turned to politics: 

“Gorbachev goes on television, but it’s Raisa Maximovna' 
who makes all the decisions.” 

I declared a recess. I thought everyone somehow might 
come to their senses. After the break they all took their seats 
again, the outward restraint barely masking the inner tension. 
Once again my wife spoke in the name of the women. With a 
contrived tranquillity she threw out a venomous ultimatum: 

“Of course, if you really want a country residence, go ahead, 
but not one of us women will step foot in it. In other words, 
it’ll be yours alone. And since we share our funds in common 
and you have no right to spend them without our consent, 
as compensation we demand you give us one of the company 
cars with a driver, specially for our household use. Well take 
turns using it.” 

“Great,” came a chorus of male voices, “go ahead and choke 
yourselves! Well give you anything you like as long as you 
promise not to show up there!” 

“They’re bound to find some farm hussies out there,” one 
of the women observed. 

“Let them look,” retorted another. “Those hussies’ll soon 
make themselves scarce. Who needs them?” 


'Raisa Maximovna Gorbacheva {nee Titorenko; 1932-1999) — wife of the last 
Soviet leader (General Secretary of the Communist Party and President of 
the USSR) Mikhail Sergeevich Gorbachev (1931-). In contrast to the wives of 
Gorbachev’s predecessors, Raisa Maximovna played an active role in the 
political life of the Soviet Union and was rumoured to ‘run the country’ 
from behind her husband’s back. 



A destructive force 


93 


None of the men whose wives worked at the co-operative 
went home that night. It was Friday, and we headed out to 
our ‘hacienda’. 

We took a good look around, and started making plans for 
settling in. The next day we heated up the bath-house. At 
Mishunin’s request the village woman came to milk the cow. 
We watched how she did it. It was a pleasant time. The cow 
was quiet, not restless. She was ours now. The woman ad- 
vised that she wouldn’t always be able to come to do the milk- 
ing. We’d need to look up somebody else. 

After an early-evening cleansing at the bath-house, we 
cooked ourselves supper. It turned out we had quite a feast! 
Mishunin fried some fish. We put out bottles of beer and vod- 
ka, and sat down at the table. And all at once: “Moo-o-oo!” 

It was the cow We got up and headed for the barn. It was 
milking time, and there was no milkmaid around. We stood 
there — eight men — in front of the cow and had no idea 
what to do. 

In any case, who can explain what sometimes happens to 
people at the sight of an animal? You live your life day after 
day without the slightest thought for non-human creatures. 
And then all at once you find yourself in a situation where one 
of them’s in your home: a cat, or a dog, or some other animal, 
and you find you have the same kind of feelings come over you 
that you’d have in the presence of a child. You’re nervous, you 
worry Why is that? Maybe it’s really true that the first man, 
Adam, when God gave him the job of naming all the creatures, 
looked upon each one with love, and this love is something 
we’ve all inherited — it hides for the most part deep down 
inside us and makes an appearance only from time to time. 
Nobody can say for certain whether that’s true or not. Only 
each one of us, I’m telling you, had some sort of feeling for that 
cow, and I’m positive it felt something for us, too. 

And this is what came out of it. Seryozha Khodokov said: 



94 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


“The milk’s likely bursting her udder. We’ve got to do 
something.” 

We started in pestering Mishunin. Why on earth, we said, 
did you buy a cow? And yet at the same time we felt bad about 
selling it — it had only been one day but we had somehow 
taken to it like one of our own. 

The cow looked at us with her sorrowful eyes, silently. 
Then she stretched her head out toward me and let out a loud 
“Moo-o-oo!” She was mooing so pleadingly, and I told Mis- 
hunin: 

“Better get to the milking right away, since you were the 
one who bought her!” 

Mishunin quicldy fetched the milk-pail, tied the kerchief 
around his head (the kerchief the milkmaid had left behind), 
and climbed into the cow’s stall. He asked us not to leave, as 
God knows what this cow might do. She let him approach 
and start milking her. We brought the cow some water to 
drink, put fresh hay into her stall and gave her some bread. 

Mishunin went on milking. At first he wasn’t very success- 
ful — only very thin streams of milk came out and even they 
sometimes missed the pail, but then it got a little better. Af- 
ter fifteen minutes the milk was still coming. Mishunin said, 
whispering for some reason: 

“Sweat. My sweat’s getting in the way.” 

“We gathered up handkerchiefs from whoever had them, 
and Seryozha Khodokov climbed into the stall to wipe the 
perspiration from Alexey’s forehead. He squatted down be- 
side him to see how the milking was going, from time to time 
wiping the sweat from Alexey’s face. And suddenly we could 
hear Seryozha’s agitated whisper: 

“What are you doing? You’re hurting her! You’ve got a 
good stream coming from your right hand, but only a third of 
that from your left. You can permanently damage her udder 
that way” 



A destructive force 


95 


“It’s my fingers,” Mishunin whispered. “It’s ’cause my fin- 
gers have gone numb on my left hand. Maybe you’d better 
help.” 

Seryozha Khodokov approached the cow from the other 
side and they began milking together simultaneously 

After half an hour, maybe more, they had milked a whole 
pailful. 

That night at supper we drank fresh milk, and I swear it 
was the best-tasting milk we’d ever had in our lives. 

Early the next morning we were awakened by the milkmaid, 
who told us with some astonishment that she had tried milk- 
ing the cow that morning, but for some unknown reason the 
cow wouldn’t let her anywhere close to her. 

Once again we trotted off to the barn. We did everything 
just the way we had the night before, and the cow started 
milking. 

“Well ain’t that the limit!” exclaimed the woman. “Since 
the cow seems to like you so much ,you can milk her from now 
on. Elappens that way, /know A cow can let some people 
come close, but others she jolly well won’t.” 

Our cow, it turned out, was quite picky. Not only did she 
not let any of the hired milkmaids near her, whenever she was 
milked she demanded that one of us stand by her muzzle and 
feed her, and talk to her, while the milking had to be a joint 
effort on the part of two men together. That meant three 
of us had to go for each milking session. So that’s how we 
drew up the schedule — three at a time. At least until we sold 
the cow, we thought. But it wasn’t long before the rumours 
about our picky cow began flying around. Buyers would come 
and try milking her themselves, and nothing happened. And 
they’d refuse to take her, even for a pittance. Granted, I did 
make one condition — that she wasn’t to be slaughtered 
for meat. 



9 6 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


We called in a veterinarian, and he told us: 

“That does happen, fellows. An animal gets used to some- 
one, and may reject others for a long time. But tell me, what 
on earth possessed you to domesticate her that way?” 

He didn’t have any real advice to offer us, apart from tell- 
ing us that our cow was calving — meaning she was pregnant. 
When the time came we would have to prepare for the birth- 
ing. The vet indicated the approximate date. We would know 
when the time was near when she stopped giving milk. 

Since the men were obliged to keep watch three at once, 
we ended up spending a lot of time at our ‘hacienda’ — even 
staying overnight there. 

Our wives had a hard time accepting that we were really 
having problems with the cow, since they had sworn never to 
set foot in our ‘hacienda’ themselves, and looked upon this 
whole story of the cow as a convenient excuse. The wom- 
en and wives working at the co-operative completely lost all 
sense of self-control. They started telling obscene jokes. The 
one who complained about her husband’s bad smell said: 

“Only a sexual pervert could attract such a perverted cow!” 

To which he retorted: 

“I’d rather spend my whole life milking a silent cow than 
listening to your dumb remarks.” 

Soon afterward he moved out completely to live in the ‘haci- 
enda’ and later got a divorce from his wife. He married ayoung 
country girl with a child and became quite a decent farmer. 

Then the day came when the cow stopped giving milk. On 
the vet’s advice we got everything ready for the birthing. But 
the cow gave birth all by herself and without incident. She 
bore a little bull-calf. A handsome son-of-a-gun. When we 
called the vet, he took one look at the pair and said: 

“Well, that’s great! Nothing more to be done here. She’s 
taken care of it all by herself. Just keep the place clean. Make 
sure she’s well fed.” 



A destructive force 


97 


Some time later we managed to find a good home for both 
the cow and her bull-calf. One day we went over to see what 
a handsome creature he’d turned into, our little bull. And 
everything was arranged nicely for his mother. Even now I 
still think of her. I wonder whether she remembers us. But 
while we got things settled for the cow, we didn’t manage to 
restore a sense of harmony and mutual understanding in the 
co-operative. 

So I ended up dividing the co-operative in two, reorganis- 
ing part of it under a different name. I began using the char- 
tered ship to make long trading voyages to the North along 
the River Ob. In between such voyages I conducted business 
cruises for Russian and foreign entrepreneurs. 

I took the lesson home that one indispensable condition of 
success, among others, is a sense of mutual understanding and 
respect in a collective. You must have faith not only in your 
own abilities but in everyone’s. Any kind of abilityyou have is 
multiplied by your faith in the people around you. 



Chapter Fifteen 



It was only upon arriving at Moscow’s Vnukovo airport that 
I realised my funds were rather low — I had only 5 million 
roubles (Si, 000) left, and I did not even have a specific plan 
of action. It was hardly likely that either my employees or 
my family would be able to cope with my accumulated debts; 
they would have to sell the company’s assets, meaning I could 
not look to home for any assistance. Had I remained in Nov- 
osibirsk, of course, I could have worked things out. But that 
would have meant concentrating all my attention on the daily 
affairs of my business — something that was impossible after 
what had happened in the taiga and the promises I had made 
both to Anastasia and to myself. 

Indeed, by this time it was hard to determine whether my 
actions were being guided by my own awareness and desire or 
by Anastasia’s influence. 

One thing was crystal clear: I was bankrupt. Having wit- 
nessed countless similar situations among my colleagues, I 
knew there was nobody I could turn to — either friends, rela- 
tives, or former employees. They would all avoid you like the 
plague. You can spend ten years of your life being a hero and 
then just one little mistake can put you in the doghouse and 
make you a non-person, despised by everyone you know. It’s 
happened to a lot of prominent entrepreneurs. In a situation 
like this you can only hope in yourself and your own ability to 
find a way out of a dead-end predicament. 

After leaving my bag (containing a sweater, some shirts and 
a few other trifles) at a hotel, I started tramping around the 



Herbalife’ entrepreneurs 


99 


streets of Moscow. I tried figuring out what it all meant — 
everything Anastasia had said about Russia’s entrepreneurs. 

The first thing that struck my eye in Moscow this time was 
the activity of the so-called ‘Herbalifers’. 

Neatly dressed people stood in the tunnels leading to met- 
ro 1 stations in the city centre, haranguing passers-by with job 
offers. “With a foreign firm,” as they said. They were lur- 
ing them with promises of huge earnings and opportunity for 
promotion. The word Herbalife wasn’t even mentioned — 
probably because almost every classified advertisement in 
the papers posted by a job-seeker ended with the words: “No 
Herbalife offers.” 

Still they stood there, wearing “Work for you” buttons and 
handing out flyers from some foreign firm, stubbornly urg- 
ing people to at least come for an interview. Later I learnt 
that those responding were subjected to intense psychologi- 
cal conditioning, with special emphasis on two points dear to 
the heart of the average Russian. 

First, seminar speakers would make a big thing of telling 
how they or their relatives, for example, received a fantastic 
healing with the help of this ‘Herbalife’ from overseas, with 
the implication that any potential distributor could also en- 
gage in the noble practice of treating people’s ailments. The 
system was so miraculous, they declared, that no medical 
courses were needed, just two or three training sessions, even 
if you were a simple painter or plasterer, and, presto, you are 
qualified to act as a consultant to ailing consumers. 

Secondly, they made a point of telling stories with examples 
of how one could get rich through promoting and distributing 
‘Herbalife’ products. This meant buying at least one package 
for starters (with your own money), then finding someone 


1 metro — i.e., the Metropolitan, referring to the underground or subway sys- 
tem operating in Moscow and many other Russian cities. 



IOO 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


else and convincing him in a one-on-one conversation of the 
fantastic benefits of using ‘Herbalife’, then selling it to him at 
a slightly higher price. At the same time you needed to keep 
recruiting more distributors, getting a percentage from each 
new recruit. The more recruits you attracted, the higher you 
would rise in the hierarchy and the more money would accrue 
to you. You would reach a point where you yourself wouldn’t 
have to do any of the actual distribution work. 

As an entrepreneur, I soon realised one thing very clearly: 
money did come showering down in a rain of gold, but only 
for the person at the very top of this pyramidal system and his 
closest collaborators. The whole long chain of distributors, 
divided into so-called levels, survived only thanks to each lev- 
el benefiting from its own price mark-up, and it was all paid 
for by the one at the very bottom — the consumer who be- 
lieved in the miracle properties of the product. 

In some cases the price increased by twelve times!! The 
actual distribution keeps rolling along non-stop, thanks to 
the huge number of agents using their own accounts of heal- 
ing to win the trust of their fellow-Russians and make them 
believe in the miracle properties of ‘Herbalife’. A system like 
this is capable of selling even the ashes from one’s stove. Any 
complainers are simply told that they have somehow misun- 
derstood the instructions on the label or not followed them 
closely enough. 

This system is especially effective in our country, where 
people are accustomed to getting the most reliable infor- 
mation from trusted friends and acquaintances rather than 
through official channels. 

There is no point whatsoever in discussing the advantages 
or disadvantages of the ‘Herbalife’ products themselves. That 
is a long story I can say only one thing with absolute certain- 
ty: all the fervour of the distributors telling about their own 
healings disappears as soon as they realise they’re not going 



‘Herb alife’ entrepreneurs 


IOI 


to get any money from you. In that case you’ll start hearing a 
whole string of counter-examples, such as “It’s nothing but a 
load of crap!” 

This distribution system was invented in the West. Man- 
aged from the West, it lures in all sorts of unemployed Rus- 
sians. But these are not our entrepreneurs. And now I shall 
tell you of yet another gimmick invented by Western busi- 
nessmen. 



Chapter Sixteen 



Free holidays in Hawaii 


If you should be stopped on a crowded Moscow street by 
smartly dressed young people (some of whom speak with an 
accent) inviting you to a presentation by a foreign firm with 
your own reserved table and free lottery tickets, offering you 
the opportunity to win a gold watch or even a free trip to Ha- 
waii, you can be sure that you will be guaranteed a free trip. 
But it is best to bear in mind the old saying: “The only free 
cheese is in a mousetrap.” 

It’s not hard to figure out just how this particular mousetrap 
works. 

What you get ‘for free’ is the opportunity to stay in elegant 
lodgings. Upon arriving you discover that they really do look 
like the photos in the brochures. The catch is, you have to 
pay for the airline ticket, your food and all the ‘incidentals’. 

A few days into your stay you realise that this ‘free’ vaca- 
tion is ending up costing you quite a bit more than the full 
price of a stay at some other comparable resort. It’s all very 
simple: your ‘free stay 5 is paid for by a host of surcharges on 
a range of food and other services. These surcharges cover, 
by the way, the agents standing on the street-corners and the 
so-called ‘free’ presentation, the colour brochures they hand 
you, not to mention the company’s profit. 

Of course, for those with lots of money to spare, it doesn’t 
make too much difference. The only bad thing you might feel 
is the unpleasant sensation of being made a fool of. It is quite 
a different matter when an average Russian wage-earner of 
modest means, one who has spent a whole year saving for such 



Free holidays in Hawaii 


103 


a trip, takes the bait and, instead of going to see his mother or 
for a holiday at a Russian resort, hands over his hard-earned 
savings to these foreign smart-asses and like a fool spends two 
weeks in lodgings designed for fools like him. 

Gentlemen from abroad, where did this attitude of disre- 
spect for us Russians come from? As I was looking at the sales 
kiosks on our streets filled with imported goods, even import- 
ed bottled water, I remembered how it had been the same way 
on my ships, but back then I had never really thought about 
what was behind it. I was listening to radio reports about the 
suspicious quality of the chicken legs on sale all over the coun- 
try, as well as about bottled water with fancy labels promoting 
its healing mineral properties, belying the fact that this stuff, 
sold in our stores, was simply tap water with suspicious ad- 
ditives. I was noticing the huge number of signs advertising 
how you could refresh your strength with a ‘hot dog’, as if all 
of Moscow and even all of Russia had suddenly made these 
rubber sausages their national dish, and wondering why this 
had never struck me before as it did now. 

I remembered the respect and enthusiasm with which we’d 
greeted visiting entrepreneurs from abroad at the beginning 
of perestroika. I remembered how I’d organised business cruis- 
es down the River Ob for them on my ship, and how the Sibe- 
rian entrepreneurs tried as hard as they could to provide them 
with the highest-quality service. Of course not all the visitors 
were the same, but what did we gain in the long term? 

So, where are you, entrepreneurs of Russia? The ones that 
should be making our country flourish?! 



Chapter Seventeen 






At the very beginning of perestroika, when the first law on co- 
operatives in the USSR was enacted, many saw it as a call to 
action. And a lot of young people, as well as many not so young 
but invariably full of energy and desire to really do something 
for themselves and their country literally threw themselves 
into the fray And immediately found themselves surrounded 
by a hostile, pestering crowd. 

“Down with them!” the crowd shouted. “Bourgeois smart- 
asses! What did we fight for, anyway?” 

And even though many of Russia’s pioneer entrepreneurs 
ended up working round the clock, pouring in a colossal amount 
of energy not to mention their unique wit and inventiveness, 
hardly any of their efforts met with so much as a ‘thank you’. 
The modicum of support they required was usually provided 
only by intercommunication and interaction with each other. 

Then a concept was born — it literally came out of thin 
air — the idea of creating a Union of USSR Co-operators. I 
was part of the pilot group initiating the project, along with 
the well-known Russian entrepreneur Artem Tarasov . 1 

'Artem [pronounced: art-YOM} Mikhailovich Tarasov (1950-) — a promi- 
nent Russian entrepreneur, one of the first Soviet ‘co-operators’. An engi- 
neer by profession, in 1989 he proclaimed himself the first legal millionaire 
in the USSR, and the following year he was elected as a deputy of Russia’s 
Supreme Soviet (nominal Parliament). He founded dozens of business ven- 
tures, including Russia’s leading business newspaper Kommersant and the 
Transaero airline. After years of suppression by the state, Tarasov emigrated 
to London, In 2004 he published a book of memoirs entitled The million- 
aire , exposing the corruption of Russia’s ruling elite. 



The beginning of perestroika 


105 


Most of us at the time were Communists. At the first en- 
trepreneurs’ congress I was elected secretary of the congress’s 
Party Committee. I tried to explain to our overseer from the 
Communist Party Central Committee, Comrade Kolosovsky, 
that it was incredibly difficult for entrepreneurs to work un- 
der such pestering. We needed first and foremost the Party’s 
moral support. But I soon realised that we were going to be 
facing hostility and pestering from a segment of the ordinary 
public, as well as high- and low-ranking officials, for a long 
time to come. We could not look to the higher echelons of 
the Central Committee for any outward show of support, 
since they were afraid of losing popularity — already their 
power was greatly diminished compared to the heyday of So- 
viet communism. An internal struggle had apparently begun 
and was now in full swing. 

In addition, entrepreneurs had begun to feel mounting 
pressure from a tax squeeze. And today, with maybe one or 
two exceptions, not a single business can keep afloat if it duti- 
fully pays all the required taxes. Realising this, many of them 
have managed to escape the tax squeeze by using all sorts of 
tricky loop-holes. But in doing this they have landed them- 
selves in an even more precarious situation — being outside 
the law Attempt after attempt to make officials on various 
levels see the absurdity of the prevailing tax system have not 
exactly been crowned with success. Indeed, they could not 
be, since the ones who initiated the system (and this is my 
own personal assumption) understand better than anyone else 
the impossibility of paying all the taxes, but this was exactly 
what they needed. Needed for what? For power, of course! 
For extortion! 

One false step and you can be instantly ground to powder, 
outlawed by tax police and inspectors. 

I felt sorry for the first entrepreneurs of perestroika, as well 
as for Russia’s current crop of businessmen. I decided to do for 



io 6 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

them whatever lay within my powers. I went to the League of 
Russian Co-operators and Entrepreneurs, originally headed 
by Vladimir Alexandrovich Tikhonov , 2 whom we had elected 
to the post in perestroika ’ s early days. The League’s executive 
Presidium still maintained a headquarters, but many of the 
offices were empty. Vladimir Alexandrovich had died a year 
and a half earlier. I was told that the Chairman of the Russian 
Business Round Table, Ivan Kivilidi , 3 had been poisoned, to- 
gether with his secretary, just six months ago. Artem Tarasov 
had resigned from the League, and the organisation’s mem- 
bership was only a shadow of its former self. 

Thanks to my acquaintance with one of three remaining 
League executives, my request for space in one of the empty 
offices was granted, along with two telephones, a computer 
and a fax machine. Since the League had no organisational 
funds available, I was pretty much on my own. To save time 
and hotel expenses, I used the office for my sleeping quarters 
as well. I was awakened every morning at six o’clock by the 
arrival of the cleaning lady, and the absence of a TV allowed 
me to work most evenings right up ’til midnight. This sudden 
shift in living conditions — from a luxury ship’s cabin (where 
anything I wanted to eat or drink was only a bell ring away) to 
a drab office not designed for living accommodation — in no 
way embarrassed me. In many respects it actually afforded 
me greater opportunities to pursue my work. 

vladimir Alexandrovich Tikhonov (1927-1994) — academician of the Lenin 
Agricultural Academy and co-author of the innovative legislation on Rus- 
sian co-operatives mentioned above. 

3 Ivan Kbarlampievich Kivilidi (1949-1995) — an entrepreneur of Greek de- 
scent, at one time said to be the richest man in Russia. Kivilidi was an out- 
spoken advocate of political and economic reform. In 1993 he founded an 
influential “Russian Business Round Table” to forward the interests of Rus- 
sian entrepreneurial elite in the political arena. The poison which killed 
him and his secretary was delivered by a breath-activated substance placed 
in his office telephone receivers. 



The beginning of perestroika 107 

I spent my time thinking out and drafting a constitution 
for a Fellowship of Entrepreneurs, along with compiling let- 
ters of appeal — these I sent out by fax in the early hours of 
the morning, when the communication lines weren’t as busy 
By hook or by crook, malting use of both newspaper adverts 
and chance encounters, I gathered together a secretariat of 
various Moscow professionals who shared my enthusiasm for 
the project and realised its significance. 

The secretariat also included three Moscow university 
students. First there came Anton Nikolaikin, who had been 
called in to fix a broken computer. Later, after learning of our 
work on organising the Fellowship, he brought along two of 
his friends, Artem Semenov and Alexey Novichkov They im- 
mediately began work on encoding the electronic version of 
the Golden Catalogue of Russia f for which they were able to put 
together a highly professional computer programme. 


4 Golden Catalogue of Russia (in Russian: Zolotoi katalog Rossii) — a reference 
to the Fellowship’s proposed directory of member enterprises. 



Chapter Eighteen 



The idea of a Fellowship meant that it would be open to any 
entrepreneurs who had been active in the Russian market for 
at least a year, and were sincerely striving to develop honest 
relationships not only with each other but with their clients 
and employees. Representatives of various non-profit socie- 
ties tried to persuade me that today’s entrepreneurs were cool 
to the idea of any form of organisation, that the age of faith- 
based euphoria had passed, and that membership in societies 
one could join simply by paying a modest fee had diminished 
catastrophically. They argued, furthermore, that the idea of 
organising a Fellowship with additional requirements involv- 
ing the ethical standards of both the entrepreneur and the 
enterprise was simply absurd. 

My old friend Ar tern Tarasov, having heard about my arrival 
in Moscow and what I was up to, came to one of the ‘round ta- 
bles’. He set to work on drafting documents, including an ap- 
peal to entrepreneurs. He laid out several thousands of dollars 
so I could make up glossy brochures to give out to delegates at 
a small-business congress' being organised in Moscow. 

1 small-business congress — a reference to the First All-Russian Congress of 
Small Business Representatives held on 19-21 February 1996 in the pres- 
tigious Kremlin Palace of Congresses in Moscow. This high-profile event, 
organised by several government agencies and the Chamber of Commerce 
of the Russian Federation, featured an address by Russian president Bo- 
ris Yeltsin. To the entrepreneurs’ disappointment, however, many of the 
promises of government support to small business voiced during the con- 
gress were never fulfilled. 



Fellowship of Russian entrepreneurs 109 

But the congress organisers decided not to allow any bro- 
chures on the Fellowship to be handed out, no doubt fearing 
competition from us. As a result, secretarial staff and stu- 
dents positioned themselves just outside the entrances to the 
Rossiya Hotel, 2 trying to hand delegates folders containing 
the brochures. They stood there withstanding both the cold 
and attempts to chase them away by the militia, who thought 
some kind of illegal selling might be taking place. Artem 
Tarasov still managed to take a package of brochures into the 
Kremlin Palace of Congresses, where the congress was being 
held — though, unfortunately, only a rather small quantity 

The operation we had placed so many of our hopes on end- 
ed in failure. Organising the Fellowship was proving to be an 
impossibility The difficulty was that getting the necessary 
information out to all the entrepreneurs across the country 
required a huge outlay of roubles on printing and postage 
costs, since favourable responses were coming in from only 
ten percent of the people we managed to reach. The required 
funds were simply not available. 

Besides, the League executive kept back a portion of the 
membership fees as office-space rent, as they had no other 
source of funds. Sensing some sort of snag, the League 
stopped giving out money for organisational expenses alto- 
gether, in spite of the fact that the membership fees had been 
specifically earmarked for organisational expenses. 

The League needed to use the entrepreneurs’ membership 
fees just to cover operating costs, they explained. Then they 
began holding back wage payments for the secretarial staff. I 
was obliged to vacate the League’s premises, leaving behind 
my second computer which had been purchased with funds 
from the entrepreneurs who had joined the Fellowship. 

~ Rossiya Hotel — a large hotel complex in downtown Moscow, across from 
the Kremlin and Red Square, overlooking the Moskva River. 



no Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

“How come?” queried the students in bewilderment — stu- 
dents who had spent hours working out computer programmes 
at their own expense. “We’ve been doing the work which this 
non-profit organisation, according to its own constitution, is 
supposed to carry out, and here they’re treating us like ten- 
ants, and spitting on the entrepreneurs in the process.” 

The League executive argued: “The office rent must be 
paid.” 

With what was left of the secretarial staff, I tried to carry 
on the work out of one of the entrepreneurial trades union 
offices, but the same situation repeated itself there. 

After getting to know the leaders of several non-profit or- 
ganisations, I suddenly realised that they all had titles, but 
no membership, something like the so-called ‘sofa parties’, 3 
existing only for the benefit of their executives. While this 
was not true of the Farmers and Peasants Association, headed 
by Vladimir Bashmachnikov (and there may be other excep- 
tions), this was the general state of affairs at the time. 

Even today there is no non-profit organisation in Russia 
bringing together any significant number of entrepreneurs, 
and those that do exist are of the ‘sofa party’ variety. Why? 
Among the possible causes I would include the anonymity of 
membership fees. 

For some reason it always happens that once an executive 
body is created, it starts making decisions on behalf of entre- 
preneurs without consulting the majority. 

Walking away from the trades-union office, I now found 
myself without any means of communication and without an- 
ything to live on. Artem Tarasov had by this time emigrated 
to London. He had tried to get himself on the ballot for the 


3 sofa parties (in Russian: divannye partii) — political parties (or non-profit so- 
cieties) with the trappings of a registered organisation, but created merely 
to advance the interests of one individual or a small group. 



Fellowship of Russian entrepreneurs 


hi 


Russian presidency and had spent billions of roubles collect- 
ing the required signatures, but when the Central Election 
Committee invalidated most of those signatures, Artem was 
obliged to look after repairing his own financial affairs. 

The local residents working in the secretariat, not receiv- 
ing any pay, were obliged to quit. 

I was left all alone. Or rather, I thought I had been left all 
alone. But three Moscow students weren’t about to abandon 
the work they had started: Anton, Artem and Lyosha. Anton 
actually used his own holiday savings to pay the monthly rent 
on an apartment for me. They were willing to wait until I 
sought and found a way out of my present circumstances and 
could continue my work on creating the Fellowship. They 
had got caught up by the whole idea. They believed in it. But 
I could see nothing ahead but a dead end. 

It was right at this time that some news arrived from Nov- 
osibirsk. 



Chapter Nineteen 



One evening a man from Novosibirsk dropped by to see me. 
He was in Moscow on some business of his own. He brought 
along a bottle of vodka and some light snacks. We sat in the 
kitchen of my one-room flat, and he told me about how things 
stood with my family and my company 

The situation was indeed deplorable. My firm had had to 
give up one of its offices in the centre of the city for lack of 
funds to pay the rent. Our automobile spare-parts store had 
had to close. The workers there tried selling shoes, but their 
debts only increased. The entire responsibility fell on my 
shoulders. 

‘And here you’re up to goodness-knows-what. A lot of people 
are saying you’ve gone mad. You should have worked out things 
at the company first and then gone off and done your own thing, 
whatever it is. Nobody there has faith in you any more.” 

As we were finishing off the bottle, he asked me: 

“You want me to tell you my honest opinion — what they 
expect of you?” 

“Go ahead,” I replied. 

“They would like you to do away with yourself, or at least 
disappear for good. You be the judge — it’s impossible to start 
anything now without any seed capital, and here not only do 
you not have any seed capital, you don’t even have enough to 
live on. And your debts have been building up like crazy. 

“You know, nobody’s ever heard of someone climbing out of a 
hole like that. But with you out of the picture, your death will set- 
tle everything, and they can divide up what’s left of your estate. 



Suicide ? 


”3 

“Your wife says that according to the horoscope you’re a 
Leo, and you’ve just been wasting your whole life away, so you 
should die in poverty, just like in the horoscope. 

“Come on, now, why did you undertake that second expe- 
dition? Nobody can figure it out.” 

In spite of the fact that we were both pretty drunk, when I 
awoke the next morning I had a clear recollection of the whole 
conversation. His arguments were forceful and convincing. 
Novosibirsk was a dead end; there was a dead-end situation 
here in Moscow too. People who had worked alongside me 
were suffering, my family was suffering. I couldn’t possibly 
find a way out and fix everything — there was simply no way 
out. Only my death could put an end to the suffering. 

Of course suicide is never the right thing to do. But accord- 
ing to the logic of events, my suicide would relieve the suffering 
of others, and if that was the case, then he was right, and I had 
no right to live. And so I decided to do away with myself. The 
thought of it even brought comfort to me. I was freed from 
the need to undertake a torturous search for a way out of my 
present situation, since I agreed that death was the way out. 

I cleaned up the apartment a bit and wrote the landlady a 
note to say I wouldn’t be back. I decided to go to the trades- 
union office to put the Fellowship files in order. Someone — 
okay, maybe not now, but later, perhaps — would carry on 
with the work. 

The only question was: how would I do away with myself 
when I didn’t even have enough money to buy the poison? 
Then I really began thinking: maybe it shouldn’t look like sui- 
cide... Maybe I’ll go take a dip in the river, just like the ‘wal- 
ruses’,’ and I’ll jump through a hole in the ice and drown. So 
I headed off toward the Moskva River. 

'walruses — the name given to the many hardy souls who brave the icy wa- 
ters of Russia’s lakes and rivers in the middle of winter (akin to ‘Polar Bears’ 
in Canada and America). 



1X4 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

As I was making my way through an underground passage- 
way at the Pushkinskaya metro station, my ear all at once 
caught a familiar melody It was being played by two young 
girls on their violins. An open violin-case lay on the pave- 
ment in front of them and passers-by were tossing in money 
Alot of buskers make extra money like that at metro stations. 
But the way these two girls were playing their sweet melody 
amidst the bustle of noisy pedestrians and the screeching of 
trains in the background caused many a passer-by to slow 
down and listen. As for me, I couldn’t help but stop dead 
in my tracks. The violin bows were echoing a melody I had 
heard only once before — in the Siberian taiga — a melody 
sung by Anastasia. 

Back there in the taiga, I had once asked her to sing some- 
thing of her own — a song I’d never heard before, and she came 
out with this extraordinary, unusual captivating melody with- 
out words. She started by screaming like a newborn baby. Then 
her voice began sounding ever so quiet and tender. She stood 
beneath a tree, her hands clasped to her breast, and it seemed 
as though her voice was a lullaby, gently caressing a little baby, 
trying to tell him something. Her voice was so quiet it caused 
everything around to be still and listen. Then she seemed to 
be filled with delight at the little one waking from sleep, and 
her voice took off with rejoicing. The incredibly high-pitched 
sounds and cascading trills soared and took flight to the heav- 
ens, radiating through space and delighting all around... 

I asked the girls: 

“What were you playing?” 

They exchanged glances and one of them said: 

“I was just sort of improvising.” 

And the other chimed in: 

“And I was just playing along.” 

Here in Moscow, caught up as I was with the idea of set- 
ting up the Fellowship of Entrepreneurs, which had become 



Suicide ? 


115 

the main focus of my life, I had almost completely forgotten 
about Anastasia. And now, on the last day of my life, as though 
to say farewell, here she was reminding me of her existence. 

“Please, play some more, the way you were playing before!” 
I asked the girls. 

“Well try,” the older one replied. 

And there I stood in the metro station passageway, listen- 
ing to the captivating melody of the violins and remembering 
the glade in the taiga and thinking: 

Anastasia! Anastasia ! Its much too complicated to make all that 
you thought up come true in real life. It’s one thing to dream — quite 
another to turn the dream into reality. Some son of mistake must 
have crept in as you were working out your plan: organise a fellow- 
ship of entrepreneurs, write a book... 

I felt as though a flood had hit me. Repeating these last 
two phrases over and over again, I felt there was something 
out of place there, something wasn’t right. Back there in the 
taiga — in the taiga... the words had been spoken not quite 
the same way, but how? How else could they have been said? 
As I continued repeating them, I happened to switch the 
word order and heard myself saying: “Write a book, organise 
a fellowship of entrepreneurs.” 

But of course! The book should have been written first! 
The book was supposed to settle all these questions and, most 
importantly, spread information about the fellowship! Yikes, 
how much time I realised I’d wasted and, in the meantime, 
look at how complicated my personal life had become! 

All right, then. I’ll get busy, I thought. At least nowit’s clear 
just what I should be busy at. It’s absurd, of course — some- 
one who doesn’t know how to write, writing a book, espe- 
cially one he expects people to actually read! But Anastasia 
had faith it would work out. She kept trying to convince me. 
Okay That means I’ve really, really got to try now And I’ve 
got to see it through to the end! 



Chapter Twenty 






I decided to go back to my apartment. Moscow was already 
feeling the touch of spring. All that remained in the kitch- 
en was half a bottle of sunflower-seed oil and some sugar. I 
needed to replenish my larder and decided to sell my winter 
shapka, 1 which was made of mink. It was a real mink hat, not 
imitation, and cost a great deal. 

Of course, the winter weather was almost over now, but I 
thought I might get at least something for it, so I headed for 
one of Moscow’s many outdoor markets. I went up to various 
merchants selling fruit and other goods. They looked at the 
shapka, but were in no hurry to buy it. I had already decided to 
lower the price when two men approached me. They turned 
the shapka over in their hands, feeling the fur. 

“I need to try it on. Go see if you can borrow a mirror 
somewhere,” one of them said to his companion and suggest- 
ed I follow him off to one side. 

We reached a secluded spot at the end of a row of stalls and 
stopped to wait for his companion with the mirror. We didn’t 
have to wait long. He crept up stealthily from behind, and 
the blow on the back of my head first caused me to see stars, 
then my whole vision went blurry. I managed to grab hold of 
a fence to stop myself from falling to the ground, but when 
I came to, my ‘buyers’ were nowhere to be seen. The shapka, 


1 shapka — a warm fur hat, often with ear-flaps (tied up on top when not too 
cold); the commonest form of headgear during Russian winters. 



The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


“7 

too, was gone. Only a couple of women were there, making 
sympathetic oohs and ahs. 

‘Are you okay? Awful bastards, those. Here’s a crate — you 
can sit down for a bit.” 

I stayed standing against the fence for a while longer and 
then slowly made my way out of the market area. A spring 
drizzle was falling. I was about to cross a street and stopped 
on the kerb to look both ways. There was a painful ringing 
in my head. I wasn’t watching, and a passing car sprayed me 
with water from a puddle, thoroughly wetting my trousers 
and windbreaker flaps. 

I was trying to figure out what to do next when a truck 
whizzed by, covering me with more spray from the same pud- 
dle, and this time the spray flew right into my face. I stepped 
back from the kerb and took refuge from the rain under the 
awning of one of the commercial kiosks, and tried to think 
my next plan of action. 

There was no way, I realised, I could get into a metro sta- 
tion looking like this. It was three stops to my apartment. 
Sure I could walk it, but the way I looked I still might get 
picked up by the police, thinking 1 was a drunk, or a tramp, 
or just a suspicious person. Then you stand there, trying to 
explain and justify yourself while they investigate your case. 
What could I tell them anyway? Who am I now? 

And then I saw this man. 

He was shuffling slowly along the sidewalk, carrying two 
cases of empty bottles. He looked like one of those tramps 
or boozers who often circulate among kiosks that sell spirits 
on tap. Our eyes met. He stopped, put down his cases on the 
sidewalk and struck up a conversation with me. 

“What are you standing there looking at? This is my terri- 
tory On your way!” he said quietly, though not without an air 
of authority. 

Not wanting to argue with him or cross him — indeed, not 



n8 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

having the strength to do so, I replied: 

“I don’t need your territory I’ll just gather myself together 
and leave.” 

But he continued: 

‘And where will you go?” 

“None of your business where I’m going. I’ll just leave. 
That’s it.” 

‘And will you make it?” 

“I’ll make it, if I’m not interfered with. Leave me alone!” 

“The way you look you won’t either stand very long or walk 
very far.” 

“What’s that to you?” 

“You haven’t got a home to go to?” 

“What?” 

‘A novice, eh? Okay, wait here a moment.” 

He picked up his cases and walked off. He came back a 
moment later with a wrapped parcel and again started speak- 
ing to me. 

“Follow me.” 

“Where are we going?” 

“To a place where you can rest for a couple of hours, or 
maybe ’til morning. You can get yourself dried out. Then you 
can proceed on your way” 

Following after him, I asked: 

“Is your apartment close by?” 

Without turning his head he responded: 

“You couldn’t get to my ‘apartment’ if you walked your 
whole life long. I don’t have any apartment. I have my ‘de- 
ployment quarters’.” 

We walked up to a door leading to the basement of a multi- 
storey block of flats. He told me to stand over to one side 
while he looked around, waiting until none of the tenants 
were to be seen, then stuck something that looked like a key 
in the lock and opened the door. 



The Ringing Cedars of Russia 1 19 

It was warmer in the basement than on the street. Heat 
came from hot-water pipes which had been deliberately 
stripped of their insulation, probably by tramps. On the floor 
in one corner stood a pile of rags, illuminated by a dim light 
filtering in through a dust-covered basement window. But we 
went on past them into a far corner which stood empty 

He unwrapped the parcel and brought out a bottle of min- 
eral water and uncapped it. Taking a swallow of water in his 
mouth, he sprayed it all around, as though from an atomiser. 

“That’s to keep the dust down!” he explained. 

Then he slightly moved a divider standing in the corner to 
one side. From the narrow space between the divider and the 
wall he took out two sheets of plywood covered with plastic, 
along with several pieces of plastic-covered cardboard. He 
used them to lay out two makeshift bunks on the floor. Taking 
an old food tin from the corner, he lit the candle it was holding. 
The lid of the tin was not completely detached; it was clean 
and bent slightly upward in a semicircle to serve as a reflector. 
This primitive device illuminated the edges of the bunks and 
the half-metre of space between them. Here he spread out a 
sheet of newspaper, on which he started laying the contents of 
the parcel — cheese, bread and two packages of kefir . 2 

Neatly slicing the cheese, he issued an invitation: 

“What are you standing there for? Come on, sit down. 
Take off your jacket, hang it over the pipe. When it dries 
out, well clean it. I’ve got a brush. Your trousers will dry out 
without taking them off. Try not to wrinkle them.” 

Then he brought out two drams 3 of vodka, and we sat down 
to eat. In contrast to the dirty basement floor all around us, 
the corner my companion had managed to set up for himself 
had an air of cleanliness and coziness. 


‘ kefir — a popular drink made of thick fermented cow’s or goat’s milk, often 
sold in cardboard packages. 



120 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


After we clinked glasses, he introduced himself: 

“Call me Ivan. Nobody here bothers with patronymics.” 

The way he improvised the bunks and set out the food on 
the newspaper, despite the dirty floor, created a clean and 
cozy atmosphere in his basement comer. 

“I don’t suppose you have anything softer to lie on?” I asked 
after supper. 

“You can’t even keep rags down here — they only get dirty, 
and then they start to smell... I’ve got neighbours over in 
that corner. Two of them... they show up from time to time. 
They’ve made one hell of a dirty mess.” 

We got involved in conversation. I started answering his 
questions, and in doing so I ended up inadvertently telling 
him about my meeting with Anastasia — her lifestyle and her 
abilities — about her ray, her dreams and aspirations. 

He was the first person I had talked with about Anastasia! 
I myself don’t know why I told him about all her eccentrici- 
ties, about her dream and how I promised to help her. I had 
indeed tried to set up a fellowship of pure-minded entrepre- 
neurs, but had made a major mistake. I should have written 
a book first. 

“Now I’ll set about writing one and try to get it published,” 
I affirmed. ‘Anastasia said the book would be needed first.” 

‘Are you really confident you can write it and get it pub- 
lished without any funds?” 

“I don’t know whether I’m confident or not. But I shall 
certainly work in that direction.” 

“That means you have a goal, and you’re going to go for it?” 


^In the mid-1990s ‘drams’ of vodka were actually sold in what appeared to 
be plastic yoghurt cups, complete with a metal foil cover. This packaging 
enabled heavy drinkers to dispense with the need for a glass or to find a co- 
drinker to split the cost of a bottle, and thereby gained tremendous popu- 
larity 



The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


121 


“I’m going to try.” 

‘And you’re sure you’ll make it?” 

“I’m going to try.” 

“Yeah, a book. You’ll be needing a good artist to do the 
cover. Someone who can do it with heart. In line with the 
meaning of the book, with the goal. And where’re you going 
to find an artist if you haven’t got any money?” 

“I’ll have to do without an artist. Without a fancy cover.” 

“You should do it up brown, with a cover that really fits in 
with the book. If I had good paper, brushes and paints, I’d 
help you. Only those things cost a lot now.” 

“You mean to say you’re an artist? Professional?” 

“I’m an officer. But I’ve loved drawing and painting since 
childhood. I joined various art groups. Whenever I could 
steal some time, I’d paint pictures and give them to friends.” 

“Well, why did you go and become an officer if you still 
wanted to paint all these years?” 

“My great-grandfather was an officer, my grandfather and 
my father too. I loved and respected my father. I knew — I 
felt — what he wanted me to be. So I tried to be that. And I 
made it all the way to colonel.” 

“Where did you serve?” 

“Mainly in the KGB. That’s where I resigned from.” 

“Through attrition or were you forced out?” 

“It was my decision. Just couldn’t take it any more.” 

“What couldn’t you take?” 

“You know the popular song: Oh officers, officers, your 
heart is underfire. ” 4 

4 0 /j officers, o fficers, your heart is under fire (in Russian: Ofitsery, ofitsery, vashe 
serdtse pod pritselom ) — from an extremely popular song written by singer- 
songwriter Oleg Gazmanov (1951-) in 1994, which stayed several years at 
the top of the charts. The song extols the virtue of soldiers defending their 
country, and takes note of the challenges faced by Russian officers in a post- 
communist era. 



122 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


“They tried to kill you? They made an attempt on your life? 
Did they shoot at you, maybe to settle some kind of score?” 

“Officers often get shot at. It’s an age-old story, officers 
meeting up with bullets. Going to the defence of those be- 
hind them. Going along, not suspecting their own hearts 
were under fire, not suspecting the fatal shot to come from 
behind. An accurate shot. An exploding bullet. And straight 
to the heart.” 

“How so?” 

“Remember the pr e-perestroika times? The celebrations — 
First of May, Seventh of November ? 5 Huge columns of peo- 
ple crying “Hurrah!”, “Glory to...!”, “Long live...!” Me and the 
other officers, not just those from the KGB, were proud of 
the fact that we were the defenders of our people. We were 
protecting them. For most officers, this was their whole rea- 
son for living. 

“Then came perestroika, and glasnost . 6 Other shouts began 
to be heard. And it turned out that we, the KGB officers, 
were bastards, executioners. We were defending the wrong 
people and the wrong things. The ones that earlier marched 
in Soviet columns under red banners had gone over to march 


-’First of May, Seventh of November — two of the biggest Soviet holidays: 1 
May : International Workers’ Solidarity Day, a communist version of Labour 
Day, originally commemorating the Chicago General Strike of 1886; first 
celebrated in Russia (St. Petersburg) in 1S91. 7 November: the date of the 
Bolshevik Revolution. Parades on these days featured huge banners with 
communist slogans such as “Glory to the Communist Party of the Soviet 
Union!” and ‘Long live the brotherhood of nations of the USSR!”; these 
slogans would be shouted out on cue by the parading masses of workers 
and soldiers. 

6 glasnost — literally, ‘openness’, ‘transparency 1 , meaning greater freedom of 
speech and especially greater availability of information on socially impor- 
tant matters, access to which had previously been reserved for the ruling 
elite. This and perestroika (‘restructuring’) became universal buzzwords to 
describe Gorbachev’s liberal policies. 



The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


123 


in other columns under different banners, and we got left to 
take the blame. 

“I had a wife, nine years younger than me, a real beauty I 
loved her. Still do. She was so proud of me. We had a son, 
an only child. He came along... rather late, how shall I say it? 
Now he’s seventeen. In the beginning he too was proud of 
me, he respected me. 

“Then, after this whole business started, my wife became 
very quiet. She wouldn’t look me in the eye. She began to 
be ashamed of me. I handed in my resignation and took a 
job as a security guard at a commercial bank. I hid my KGB 
uniform where nobody would find it. But there were unasked 
questions still hanging in the air over my wife and son. You 
can’t answer questions which haven’t been asked. They saw 
the answers in the papers and on TV screens. Turned out, we 
officers were involved in nothing but our dachas — and, of 
course, oppression.” 

“But,” I interjected, “they showed on TV some pretty fancy 
dachas of the military elite — and they showed the real thing, 
not just faked pictures.” 

“Yeah, they showed the real thing, not just faked pictures. 
Only those dachas were sleazy chicken-houses compared to 
what many of those who accused their owners have themselves 
today Look at you — you had a whole ship at your disposal. 
That’s a lot bigger than a general’s dacha. And don’t forget, that 
general was once a cadet, he dug trenches. Then he became a 
lieutenant, got shifted about from barracks to barracks. And 
naturally he wanted to have a house and a dacha for his family, 
just like everyone else. And who knows how many times he 
had to jump out of his warm bed in the middle of the night in 
that same dacha, to go out on an emergency mission. 

“Officers used to be respected in Russia. They were reward- 
ed with an estate. Now it’s been decided that a simple dacha 
with 1500 square metres of land is too much for a general!” 



I2 4 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


“Everybody lived differently before,” I observed. 
“Differently... Yes, everybody... But you can’t tell me it 
wasn’t the officers who were singled out for blame ahead of 
everyone else. 

“It was the officers who demonstrated on the Senate 
Square.'' They were thinking of the people. These officers 
were later sent either to the scaffold or to the mines in Sibe- 
ria. Nobody stood up to defend them. 

“Later Russian officers fought for the Tsar and the Father- 
land in the trenches against the Germans. And back home 
‘revolutionary patriots’ were already getting bullets ready 
for their hearts more terrible than the leaden ones. White 
Guards , s Monsters — that was what they called the officers re- 
turning from the war — officers who were simply trying to 
maintain order. There was chaos all around, everything was 
falling apart. All our former values, both material and spiritu- 
al, were being either torched or trampled upon. It was so hard 
for them, those White Guard officers. So they put on clean 
underwear under their uniforms 9 and went on a psychological 
attack. You know what’s meant by ‘psychological attack’?” 

“It’s when you try to scare the hell out of your opponent. 
I’ve seen It in films. In Chapaev , 10 for example, the White 

Senate Square , now known as Decembrists’ Square — a large square not far 
from the Winter Palace in St. Petersburg, where a significant number of 
military officers demonstrated (unsuccessfully) against the Tsarist govern- 
ment in December 1825. The officers were either exiled or executed for 
treason. 

s 

’ White Guards — the name given to military personnel who fought against 
the Bolshevik Revolution and during the subsequent Civil War (1918-23). 
The pro-Bolshevik soldiers were known as the Reds. 

9 clean underwear under their uniforms — a sign that the officers expected to 
be killed in battle that day 

10 Chapaev — a classic Russian film, made in 1934, telling the story of Vasily 
Ivanovich Chapaev, a Red Army hero of the Russian Civil War. 



The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


125 


Guard officers are advancing in formation, and they get 
strafed by machine-gun fire. Some fall, but the others close 
ranks and keep advancing.” 

“ Yeah, that’s it. They fall and still keep advancing. But the 
thing is that they weren’t really ‘attacking’ to begin with.” 

“How so? What was the point of advancing then?” 

“In military practice the whole reason for, the goal of any 
attack is either the capture or the physical annihilation of the 
enemy — preferably with the least possible loss in the ranks 
of the attackers. To keep advancing against strafing from 
machine-guns concealed in trenches — that was only done 
when there was another goal set, either consciously or subcon- 
sciously” 

“What goal?” 

“Maybe, and this goes against the logic of the art of war, 
it was to demonstrate something to the enemy even at the 
cost of one’s own life — to make the soldiers firing the guns 
and killing the advancing marchers stop and think, to realise 
something and not fire at others.” 

“So, in that case their death would be something like Jesus 
Christ’s death on the cross?” 

“Something like that. We still manage to remember Christ, 
somehow The young cadets and generals who advanced 
against their attackers, we’ve forgotten. Maybe even now 
their souls, dressed in clean underwear under their officers’ 
uniforms, are standing in front of the bullets we’re firing, and 
pleading with us, calling on us, to stop and think.” 

“Why would they be calling to us? When they were being 
fired on, we weren’t even born.” 

“No, we weren’t. But bullets are still flying around today. 
New bullets. Who, if not us, is doing the firing?” 

“Indeed. Bullets are still flying around today And just why 
have they been flying around all these years? Why did you 
leave home?” 



126 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

“I couldn’t stand the way he stared at me.” 

“The way who stared at you?” 

“We were watching TV one night. My wife was in the 
kitchen, and my son and I were watching together. Then 
one of those political programmes came on, they started 
talking about the KGB. You know, a real smear campaign. I 
deliberately picked up a newspaper and made it look like I 
was reading, as though I wasn’t interested in what they were 
saying. I was hoping my son would switch to another pro- 
gramme. He’s never been interested in politics. He likes 
music. 

“But he didn’t change the channel. I rustled my paper, 
stealing glances at him out of the corner of my eye. And I saw 
him sitting in the chair, his hands gripping the arms of the 
chair so tight they turned white. He didn’t move a muscle. I 
realised he wasn’t going to change the channel. I held on as 
long as I could, hiding behind the paper. Then I couldn’t take 
it any more. I smashed the paper into a ball and threw it to 
one side, got up sharply and yelled: ‘Are you going to turn the 
damn thing off? Are you?' 

‘My son also got up. But he didn’t go over to the TV. He 
stood opposite me, stared me in the eye and said nothing. 
The TV programme was still going. But my son just kept on 
staring at me. 

“Later that night I wrote them a note. I said I was going 
away for a while — had no choice. And then I left for good.” 

“Why for good?” 

“ Because 

For a long time neither of us uttered a word. I tried to 
make myself a bit more comfortable on the bunk so I could 
drift off. But then the colonel started talking again. 

“So, you tell me Anastasia said she’d bring people through 
‘the dark forces’ window of time’? She’d bring them through, 
and that’s it?!” 



The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


127 


“Yeah, that’s what she said. And she herself believes that 
she can make it happen.” 

‘Ah, she should have a hand-picked regiment. I’d become 
a soldier again to serve in that regiment.” 

“What’s this about a regiment?” I retorted. “You didn’t get 
it. She rejects the use of force. She wants to persuade people 
by some other means. She’s trying to do that with her Ray.” 

“I think, or rather I feel, that she’s going to do it. There’s a 
lot of people that will want to be warmed by her Ray But not 
many of them will understand that they themselves will have 
to put in something from their own brain-power. Anastasia 
needs help. She’s all alone. She hasn’t got even a single pla- 
toon at her command. So, you see, she’s recruited you, she’s 
commissioned you — and here you are lying in a basement 
like a tramp. And you call yourself entrepreneur after that?” 

“Well, you KGB-er, you’re lying here, too.” 

“Okay, go to sleep, soldier.” 

“It’s rather cold in your ‘barracks’.” 

“Well, that’s the way it is, isn’t it? Curl up into a ball, con- 
serve your heat.” 

Then he got up and took out from behind the divider yet 
another plastic bag. He got something out of it to cover me 
with. In the dim light of the candle I could see shining right 
under my nose three stars on the epaulet of a greatcoat. It 
was warm under the coat, and I fell asleep. 

I was half asleep when I heard the tramps come in and 
head for their rag corner. They demanded the colonel hand 
them over a bottle for my overnight stay. He promised to set- 
tle it in the morning, but they insisted, threateningly that he 
better pay up now, or else. The colonel then moved his bunk, 
placing it between me and the newcomer tramps, declaring: 
“You touch him only over my dead body!” And he lay down 
on his bunk, shielding me from the new arrivals. Then every- 
thing went quiet again. I felt warm and peaceful. 



128 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


I was awakened by the colonel’s shaking my shoulder. 

“Get up. Turnout! We gotta get outa here.” 

The first rays of dawn were barely beginning to show them- 
selves through the dim basement window I sat up on my 
bunk. Not only did I have a splitting headache but I found I 
had trouble breathing. 

“It’s still early The dawn hasn’t even broken,” I observed. 

“Alittle longer and it’ll be too late. They’ve lit some cotton- 
wool with powder. It’s an old trick. A little longer and we’ll 
be suffocated.” 

He went to the window and started working the window- 
frame loose with an iron bar. The tramps had locked the door 
from the outside. Taking out the frame, he broke the glass 
and crawled through the aperture. The basement window 
opened into a concrete well, covered with a grating. The 
colonel began fiddling with the grating, trying to dislodge it, 
but somehow it wasn’t working. 

I stayed leaning against a wall. My head was spinning. The 
colonel stuck his head back through the window opening and 
ordered: 

“Squat down. Less smoke near the floor. Try not to move. 
Breathe in less air.” 

He forced the grating out with his shoulders. He moved it 
off and helped me clamber out. 

We sat on the cement kerb outside the basement window, 
silently filling our lungs with the pre-dawn air of an awaken- 
ing city The spinning in my head gradually lessened. The air 
started feeling cold. Each of us sat there, thinking his own 
thoughts. 

Then I said: 

“Your neighbours aren’t very friendly They’re the ones in 
charge here?” 

“Everyone’s in charge of himself. They got their own busi- 
ness. They bring in a new homeless person, and make him pay 



The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


129 


for staying overnight. If he refuses to pay they slip something 
into his drink or suffocate him in his sleep, like they tried to 
do to us, and then they take whatever they like from him — if 
he’s got anything worth taking, that is.” 

‘And you’re telling me that you, a KGB-er, are indifferent 
to it all? You could earn yourself some pretty points by giv- 
ing chaps like that the once-over. Or were you just a pencil- 
pusher, sitting in an office all day? Maybe you didn’t know 
how to work the street?” 

“I worked in an office and I worked outside the office. I 
knew what to do. But to know the moves — that’s not the 
same as applying them. A criminal, an enemy — that’s one 
thing. But here we’re dealing with human beings. I might 
calculate wrong, use too much deadly force.” 

“You call those human beings? While you’re rationalising 
away, they’re out there robbing people blind. They’re even 
ready to commit murder!” 

“Yeah, they’re ready to commit murder. But you won’t stop 
them by physical means.” 

“You sit there philosophising, but we almost died. We 
barely managed to escape, others might not be so lucky” 

“Yeah, others might not be so lucky...” 

“There, you see? Then how come you’re philosophising 
and not acting?” 

“I can’t use violence on people. You see what I mean, I 
could calculate wrong... You may as well get going to your 
own ‘deployment quarters’. It’s dawn already.” 

I got up, shook his hand, and left. 

I had gone but a few steps when he called after me: 

“Wait! Come back here a moment.” 

I approached the homeless colonel sitting on the concrete 
kerb. He was just sitting there, his head lowered, not saying 
a word. 

“Hey, why did you call me?” 



130 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

After a moment’s pause he spoke: 

“So, you think you’ll make it okay?” 

“I think I can. It’s not far. Three metro stops, that’s all. I’ll 
make it.” 

“I meant, d’you think you’ll reach your goal? Are you sure? 
Writing a book, getting it published?” 

“I’ll give it a try First I’ll try writing.” 

“So, Anastasia said it should work out for you?” 

“That’s what she said.” 

“Then why didn’t you do that right off?” 

“The other seemed more important.” 

“So, that means you’re not good at following orders prop- 
erly?” 

‘Anastasia didn’t order me, she asked me.” 

“She asked you... So, she worked out the tactics and strat- 
egy herself. And you thought you’d do it your way and you just 
loused things up.” 

“That’s how it turned out.” 

“That’s how it turned out... You gotta pay closer attention 
to your orders. Here, take this.” 

He held out something wrapped in a small plastic package. 
I unwrapped it and saw, through the clear plastic, a golden 
wedding band and a silver cross on a little chain. 

“A dealer will give you half-price for these. Let him have 
them for half-price. Maybe it’ll help see you through. If 
you’ve got nowhere to stay, come back here. I’ll take care of 
them" 

“What are you talking about? I can’t take these!” 

“Don’t rationalise. It’s time for you to go. So go. Look to it! 
Just go!” 

“I’m telling you, I can’t take them.” 

I tried to give him back the ring and the little cross, but I 
was met by an authoritative and, at the same time, pleading 
stare. 



The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


131 

‘About— face! Forward— march!” he commanded in a 
whisper that was restrained, yet brooked no contradiction. A 
moment later came another plea: 

“Just be sure you make it.” 

Arriving at my flat, I felt like going to sleep and even got 
to the point of lying down. But I couldn’t get the homeless 
colonel out of my head. 

I got dressed in some clean clothes and went to see him. 
Along the way I thought: Maybe he’ll agree to move in with 
me. He’s adaptable to anything. He’s practical and he’s neat. 
Besides, he’s an artist. Maybe he’ll do a picture for the book’s 
cover. And it’ll be easier to find some rent money if we’re to- 
gether. I had no money for the next month’s rent. 

As I approached the basement window we had climbed 
out of earlier that morning, I saw a group of people — tenants 
from the building, a police car and an ambulance. 

The homeless colonel was lying on the ground, his eyes 
closed and a smile on his face. His face and body were splat- 
tered with wet dirt. One dead hand was clenched around a 
piece of red brick. A broken wooden crate stood against the 
wall. 

A court medical assessor was writing something down on a 
notepad. He was standing beside the corpse of another man, 
dressed in shabby, rumpled clothing, with a disfigured face. 

In the little crowd that had gathered, no doubt comprised of 
the building’s tenants, one woman was rattling on excitedly: 

“...I was walkin’ me dog an’ I saw him, the one smilin’, 
perched on the crate, his face to the wall, an’ the three of 
’em — tramps, by the look of it — two men an’ a woman 
with ’em — comes at him from behind. The man gives the 
crate a kick an’ he falls off the crate to the ground. They 
starts kickin’ him, cursin’ all the while, they did. I yells at 
’em. They stops kickin’ him. Old ‘Smiley’ here, he gets up, 
see. He has a pretty hard time gettin’ up too. An’ he tells 



132 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

’em to sod off an’ not show their faces around here again. 
They starts cursin’ again, an’ then they comes at him full 
force. As they gets closer, he gives a straight chop with the 
back of his hand right to the throat of the bloke what kicked 
the crate. It’s not that he’s wavin’ his arms about or anythin’, 
he just lands the other bloke a chop so’s he doubles up an’ 
can’t breathe. I yells at ’em again an’ two of ’em runs straight 
off, see. First the woman, then the man after her. ‘Smiley”s 
now clutchin’ at his heart. Fie oughtta sit down or lie down 
straight off, if it’s his heart what’s givin’ out, but no, he goes 
back to his crate. Moves ever so slowly, he does. Puts his 
crate back against the wall. Then he gets back up on it. I 
can see he’s in a really bad way. Fie starts failin’. An’ he slides 
down, still drawin’ on the wall with that red brick of his, an’ 
keeps on drawin’ ’til he lands himself on the ground. An’ he’s 
lyin’ there face up, right against the wall. I runs over, looks, 
an’ he ain’t breathin’. Not breathin’. But he’s sniilinV 

“Why did he climb up on the crate?” I asked the woman. 

“Yeah, why did he climb up if his heart were givin’ out?” 
echoed a voice from the crowd. 

“He wanted to keep on drawin’. And when those three 
blokes came at him from behind, he was drawin’, that’s what 
he was doin’... That’s prob’ly why he didn’t see ’em cornin’. 
I’d been walkin’ me dog for a long time, an’ there he is, stan- 
din’ on his crate an’ drawin... He didn’t turn ’round, not even 
once... You can see what he drew — up there, on the wall!” 
And the woman pointed to the building. 

On the grey brick wall of the building could be seen the cir- 
cular outline of the Sun, and in the middle of it a cedar branch 
and, around the perimeter of the Sun-circle, some letters 
printed rather unevenly 

I went closer to the wall and read: RINGING CEDARS 
OF RUSSIA. Apart from that, there were rays emanating 
from the Sun. There were only three of them. The homeless 



The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


133 


colonel didn’t manage to draw any more. Two of the rays were 
short and straight, while the third was wavy and fading away, 
and extended right down to the base of the wall, where the 
dead homeless colonel was lying on the ground, s milin g 

I looked at the smiling face smeared with dirt and thought 
to myself: Maybe in the last moments of his life Anastasia man- 
aged to touch him with her Ray, and warm him up. At least 
warm his soul up a little and carry it off to a bright infinity 

I watched as the corpses were loaded into the ambulance. 
‘My colonel was thrown carelessly in the process, his head 
striking the floor of the ambulance. I couldn’t take it. I tore 
off my jacket, ran over to the ambulance and started demand- 
ing they put my jacket under his head. One of the orderlies 
swore at me, but the other took the jacket without a word and 
placed it under the colonel’s greying head. The vehicles drove 
off. Everything was empty, just as if nothing had happened. 

I stood there a while, looking at the drawing and inscription 
illuminated by the morning sun. My thoughts began getting all 
mixed up. I had to do something, at least something for him, for 
this KGB-er, a Russian officer who had perished on this spot! 
But what? What, indeed? 

Then it came to me: I’m going to put your drawing my dear 
officer, on the cover of my book. The book I most definitely will 
write. Even though I don’t yet know how to write, I’ll still 
write one, and not just one. And on all of them I’ll put your 
drawing — it’ll be my emblem. And in the book I’ll tell all 
Russians: 

“My fellow Russians, don’t shoot at the hearts of your of- 
ficers with invisible exploding bullets, bullets of cruelty and 
heartlessness. 

“Don’t shoot from behind at any soldiers — be they White 
or Red, or even blue or green, ensigns or generals. The bullets 
you fire at them from behind are more terrible than the lead- 
en ones. My fellow Russians, do not shoot at your officers!” 



Chapter Twenty-One 



I wrote quickly; From time to time Anton, Artem or Lyosha, 
the student programmers, would drop by and bring me a bite 
to eat. I still had not told them about Anastasia. But I ex- 
plained to them that the organisation of the Fellowship could 
be facilitated with the help of the book I was to write. And 
so they set about keyboarding the text of the book into the 
computers. It was mainly Lyosha Novichkov who worked on 
this. He showed up every three days, bringing a print-out of 
his latest keyboarding and talcing home a new chapter of the 
manuscript. This went on for about two months. 

One day Lyosha showed up with the last printed chapter 
of Book i, a diskette with the full text, two bottles of beer, 
frankfurters and some other kind of food, along with a little 
money, and set it all down on the kitchen table. 

“Where did you get all this bounty, Lyosha?” I asked in 
amazement. 

He lived alone with his mother, on very limited means. He 
didn’t always have enough money to buy metro tokens or even 
sandwiches. 

“It’s exam time, Vladimir Nikolaevich,” Lyosha responded. 
“I do drafts for some of the students, I make up computer 
programmes for them. For students who can’t do them them- 
selves or are too lazy; They pay me for them.” 

‘And will you make it through the exams yourself all 
right?” 

“Will do. I’ve got just one exam left, and in a couple of 
days I’ll have to go off for a month on military training, to 



Untitled 


H5 


Kineshma . 1 It’s good you managed to get Anastasia finished. 
If there are any corrections to be made now, Artem will take 
care of them. Anton’s already off on training.” 

“Tell me, Lyosha, how did you possibly manage to sit ex- 
ams, do drafts and make up computer programmes for others, 
and still keyboard and print out Anastasia every day?” 

Lyosha didn’t respond. I turned to the kitchen table to 
serve up the steamed frankfurters. Lyosha’s head and arms 
were resting on the table, on top of the printed pages contain- 
ing the Anastasia text. He was fast asleep. 


1 Kineshma — an industrial centre and port on the Volga River. 



Chapter Twenty-Two 




Standing in the kitchen of my small Moscow apartment, 
standing next to the table with the frankfurters getting cold 
and Lyosha Novichkov’s head resting on the pages containing 
the text of Anastasia, I made a promise to myself: to find away 
of regaining my capital and getting back my ship with a view 
to taking it on the same journey as last year when I first met 
Anastasia. But not on a trade mission, as before. I wanted 
to go there during the ‘white nights’ of summer, so that Lyo- 
sha, Anton and Artem — as well as all those who had worked 
like dogs, in spite of all the setbacks and often to the neglect 
of their own material well-being, to organise a fellowship of 
purer-minded entrepreneurs — could enjoy a decent holiday 
aboard my ship in the most luxurious quarters. 

And what was this grand idea all about, in any case? What 
kind of hold did it have on people? Why was I, too, drawn 
into it so closely? What kind of mystery did it conceal? I just 
had to figure this out, in concrete detail, and unravel its mys- 
tery and purpose. And why are people so turned on by this 
dream of a taiga recluse? What lies hidden there? How can I 
unravel the mystery? 

Moskovskaya Pravda correspondent Katya Golovina tried 
unravelling it by asking the students to explain what moti- 
vated them, what their personal stake was in all this. But they 
couldn’t give a definitive answer, saying only that it was some- 
thing worth doing. In other words, they were working on in- 
tuition. But what was behind this intuition? 



Chapter Twenty-Three 




At Moscow Printshop Number Eleven two thousand cop- 
ies of the first slim volume about Anastasia were printed at 
the shop’s own expense. Why did the manager, Gennady 
Vladimirovich Grutsia, decide to print a book by an unknown 
author? Why would he do this and, in spite of the printshop’s 
current financial difficulties, use offset paper instead of the 
usual newsprint ? 1 

The first books I sold myself near the entrance to the Ta- 
ganskaya metro station. Then I got some help from some of 
the book’s first readers. An elderly woman would daily stand 
and sell copies outside the Dobryninskaya metro station. She 
would take great pains to explain in detail to anyone inter- 
ested what a wonderful book it was. Why? 

Then readers began selling it as well in vacation centres on 
the outskirts of Aloscow They would print out announcements 
and organise readers’ gatherings for people holidaying there. 

Then the business manager of the Moscow Publishers’ 
Clearance House, Yuri Anatolievich Nikitin, suddenly de- 
cided to ofter the printshop an advance on an additional two 
thousand copies. His actions were strange and unexpected. 

l ie drove over to see me in his car and told me: 

“My son and I are leaving the country today to go to a ten- 
nis tournament. Our plane goes tonight. I need to hurry to 
get my payment in.” 


newsprint — This has long been the norm for printing most paperback 
books in Russia. 



138 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

He paid for the second print-run in full. When the time 
came for him to pick up his books, Nikitin told me: 

“You know, during the summer we don’t do a lot of book- 
selling. I’ll take several packages, the rest you take care of 
yourself. When money starts coming your way, you can reim- 
burse me.” Again, why? 

Right from the moment I started working on the manu- 
script there have been many whys? associated with the book, 
even to this day. It’s almost as though the book were alive, 
drawing people unto itself and using their help to break 
through into life. I used to think that the events connected 
with it were pure coincidence. Only those ‘co-incidences’ 
started tying themselves together into a pattern. Now I have 
no idea, in all that has happened, just what is coincidence and 
what is in conformity with a law. The two have become ex- 
ceedingly difficult to tell apart. 



Chapter Twenty-Four 



The moment arrived when I finally managed to pay a visit to 
Father Feodorit. Back in the taiga, in response to my ques- 
tion as to whether there were any people in our world with 
knowledge and abilities similar to hers, only living closer to 
home, Anastasia had replied: 

“There are people in various corners of the Earth whose 
lifestyle is not caught up in the prevailing technocracy 
They all have different abilities. But in your world there 
is also one person whom you will find it easy to approach, 
whether it be winter or summer. The power of his spirit is 
very great.” 

“Do you know where he lives? Can I see him and talk with 
him?” 

“Yes, you can.” 

“Who is he?” 

“He is your father, Vladimir.” 

“What do you mean? Oh, Anastasia, Anastasia! I so much 
wanted to hear proof that you’re right about everything, and 
here it’s all coming out the wrong way! My father died eight- 
een years ago and was buried in a little town in the Briansk 
region.” 

Anastasia sat on the grass, her back leaning against a tree, 
her knees drawn up close to her chest, and silently looked me 
in the eye. She seemed a little sad, as though she were tak- 
ing pity on me. Then she lowered her head to her knees. I 
thought she might be feeling upset over her mistake regard- 
ing my father, and I tried to comfort her. 



140 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

“Don’t get too upset, Anastasia. It’s probably because, as 
you said yourself, you don’t have that much strength left .” 1 

Anastasia didn’t speak for a while, then raised her head 
and, once more looking me right in the eye, said: 

“My strength has indeed lessened, but not to the point 
where I could be mistaken.” 

She then proceeded to relate events that had taken place 
twenty-six years ago. She recounted the past not only with 
great accuracy and in minute detail, but was even able to con- 
vey nuances of inner feelings. 

It is understandable how one can pick up clues from the 
outward appearance: a barely noticeable facial expression, a 
body position, even the eyes, can all give clues as to what an 
interlocutor is thinking. But how she was able to discern the 
past as though it were simply a documentary newsreel is still 
a mystery to me. 

Anastasia herself was not able to explain this phenomenon 
in a standard, comprehensible manner. But this is what she 
had to say: 

“Not far from Moscow is the Trinity-Sergiev Monastery 
complex in the town of Sergiev Posad. Behind Trinity-Ser- 
giev’s massive, ancient walls there is a seminary, an academy 
and several cathedrals, in addition to the monastery proper. 
The cathedrals are open to the public, and anyone who wish- 
es can come and pray in this holy place of Rus . 2 It was not 
destroyed even during the campaigns of persecution against 
believers; indeed, right through this period, the institutions 


'Author’s note: This conversation took place after she lost consciousness in 
saving the man and the woman from being murdered. I described this 
situation in my first book. 

1 Rus (pronounced: ROOS) — the name of the Old Russian territory, which 
by the 9th century A.D. was centred around Kiev. From Rus came the Rus- 
sia, Ukraine and Belarus we know today. 



Father Feodorit 


141 

behind these walls continued to function uninterrupted, pro- 
viding a place where the monastic brethren could serve God. 

“Twenty-six years ago, on the very day I came into this 
world,” she continued, “a young man in his late teens walked 
through the gates of the Trinity- Sergiev Monastery. He toured 
the museum, and then proceeded to visit the main cathedral, 
where a sermon was being read by a tall, grey-haired monk. 
Both the monk’s height and his rank were well above aver- 
age. This was Father Feodorit, archimandrite of the Trinity- 
Sergiev Monastery. The young man listened to his sermon. 
Later, when Father Feodorit withdrew, he followed him into 
one of the treasury-rooms, unhindered by the temple staff. 
Going up to Father Feodorit, he started talking to him about 
the sermon. And Father Feodorit spoke with him for a long 
time. The young man had been baptised, but did not have 
much inner faith. He did not observe the fasts, did not take 
communion, and did not attend church regularly But that 
day marked the beginning of a friendship between Father 
Feodorit and the young man. 

“The young man started paying visits to the monastery. Fa- 
ther Feodorit would talk with him and show him the sanctu- 
aries normally off-limits to ordinary parishioners. The monk 
gave him books, which he lost. The monk placed a little cross 
on a chain around his neck, and it was lost as well. The monk 
gave him a second cross, a most unusual one — it opened like 
a tiny case, but it too was lost. 

“The monk would even take the young man into the refec- 
tory and seat him at the same table as the monks. Each time 
he would give him a little money. He never rebuked him for 
anything and always looked forward to his arrival. 

“This went on for a whole year. The young man visited the 
monastery every week, but one day he left and did not return 
the following week. He did not come after a month, even 
after a whole year. The monk still waited. Now twenty-five 



142 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

years have passed already. The monk is still waiting. Twenty- 
five years, Vladimir, your spiritual father has been waiting for 
you — that great Russian monk, Father Feodorit.” 

“I went far away from the monastery To Siberia. I some- 
times thought of Father Feodorit,” I responded, as though 
justifying my actions to myself or to someone else. 

“But you did not write him even one letter,” observed Anastasia. 

“I want to see him.” 

“And what will you tell him? Perhaps about how you made 
money, were happy in love and simply went astray? How 
many times were you at death’s door, but at the last moment 
you were delivered from your woes? He will see all that for 
himself, just by looking at you. He prayed for forgiveness of 
your sins and time after time saved you through his prayers. 
He still believes, just as he did twenty-five years ago. He was 
hoping for something different from you.” 

“What was it, Anastasia? What does Father Feodorit know, 
what does he want?” 

“I cannot comprehend it, at least not now. It was some- 
thing he felt intuitively. Tell me, Vladimir, do you remember 
the conversations you had with him, do you remember what 
you saw in the monastery treasury-room?” 

“It’s all very fuzzy in my mind. After all, it was so long ago. 
I can only remember isolated scenes.” 

“Try to remember them. I shall help you.” 

“Father Feodorit would talk with me each time in vari- 
ous places in the monastery. I remember some underground 
rooms — at least they were partially underground. I remem- 
ber the refectory, the long table where the monks took their 
supper, and I had supper with them. It was during a time of 
some sort of fast. The food was especially prepared for the 
fast, but I liked it.” 

“Did you have any unusual impressions or feelings during 
your visits to the monastery?” 



Father Feodorit 


143 


“Once after supper I left the refectory and went through a 
passageway to an inner courtyard of the monastery complex, 
heading for an exit. The gate was already closed to parish- 
ioners. The courtyard was empty Those massive high walls 
blocked out the noise from the city beyond. All I could see 
around me were the cathedrals. Everything was completely 
silent. I stopped. It seemed as though I could hear solemn 
music playing. I needed to leave. There was a monk on duty 
at the gate to let me out and bolt the gate shut after me. But 
I just stood there and listened to that music, and eventually, 
slowly, made my way over to the gate.” 

“You never heard that music again? You never experienced 
the same impression?” 

“No.” 

“Did you ever try to hear that music — to call up the im- 
pression of it from within?” 

“Yes, but I never managed to. I even tried standing on that 
same spot the next time I came, but, alas...” 

“Try thinking of something else, Vladimir.” 

“Now you’re interrogating me. You recounted everything 
so accurately — everything that happened to me twenty-six 
years ago — you tell me how I felt back then.” 

“That is not possible. Father Feodorit did not formulate 
any specific plans, he was hoping for something intuitively 
But he did do something great and significant for you. Some- 
thing known only to him. I can only feel it intuitively myself: 
he thought up something significant and did a lot toward this 
end. A great deal, in fact. But why he associated his desire 
with you — you who did not have the basic abilities to come 
quickly into the faith — remains a mystery And why he has 
not broken this faith even after twenty-five years of your prof- 
ligate life — that too is a mystery. And why are you, who have 
received so much, still sitting on your hands? Why? I can- 
not understand that. After all, nothing in the Universe ever 



144 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

disappears without a trace. Please see if you can remember 
even isolated scenes from your meetings and conversations 
with your spiritual father.” 

“I remember a salon, or perhaps it was some sort of treas- 
ury-room, in the academy or seminary, or maybe it was one of 
the underground rooms in the monastery itself. Some kind 
of monk opened the door for Father Feodorit, but didn’t go 
in himself. The Father and I went in alone. There were some 
pictures on the walls, and things standing on little shelves.” 

“You experienced two surprises there. What were they?” 

“Surprises? Yes, of course, it did surprise me. Astounded 
me...” 

“What did?” 

“A particular picture. It was black and white, as if drawn 
with a pencil. It was a meticulously executed portrait of some 
person.” 

“So, what surprised you about it?” 

“I don’t remember.” 

“Think, Vladimir! Please, try to recall it — I shall help you. 
There was the small salon, you were standing alone there with 
Father Feodorit in front of this picture. You were standing 
just a little way in front of him, and he told you: ‘Step a little 
closer to the picture, Vladimir.’ You took one step forward, 
then another...” 

“I remember! Anastasia!” 

“What?” 

“This picture of a person was drawn with a single line. A 
fluctuating spiral line. It was as though the artist had put his 
pencil or whatever in the middle of a blank sheet of paper, and 
without talcing it off the paper, had made it go in a spiral, alter- 
nately pressing hard on it to make the line thicker and easing up, 
barely touching the paper, to make a fine, delicate line, but still 
continuous. The spiral fine ended at one edge of the page. The 
result was an amazing picture, the portrait of a person.” 



Father Feodorit 


H 5 


“This picture,” Anastasia advised, “should be put on public 
display for all to see. Someone will be able to decipher the 
information concealed in it. That pulsating line portraying a 
person has something to say to people.” 

“How?” 

“I do not know yet. You are aware, for example, how dots 
and dashes can represent an alphabet or musical notation. I 
can only guess it could be one or the other of those, or some- 
thing else besides. When you return, ask them to put it on 
public display or to publish it somewhere. Someone will turn 
up who is able to decipher that spiral line.” 

“But who will listen to me?” 

“They will listen to you. But back then you experienced a 
second most unusual feeling. Can you recall what it was?” 

“It was in the same room or in the next room. .. Yes, it was a 
rather small room where a beautiful carved wooden chair was 
standing on a raised platform. Perhaps it was an arm-chair, 
something like a throne. Father Feodorit and I stood and 
looked at it. The Father said that nobody ever touched it.” 

“But you touched it. And even sat on it.” 

“It was Father Feodorit himself who suggested I sit on it.” 

‘And what happened to you when you did?” 

“Nothing. I sat there, looking at Father Feodorit, and he 
stood there silently looking me in the eye. Just looked, that’s 
all.” 

“Please remember, Vladimir, try to recall your inner feel- 
ings. They are most important.” 

“Well, there was nothing special... It was just that, you 
know, some thoughts began running through my head lickety- 
split, like an audiotape in fast-forward mode, and the words 
all blurred into a stream of unintelligible sounds.” 

‘And you never tried deciphering them, Vladimir? Did you 
ever have the desire to stop that tape so you could listen to it 
at normal speed and understand what it was saying?” 



146 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

“How could I?” 

“By pondering the essence of your being.” 

“No, never tried that. You’re not malting any sense.” 

“And the things that Father Feodorit told you, did you un- 
derstand everything? Can you recall precisely even a single 
phrase, even a phrase without any connection to the rest?” 

“Yes, but I really can’t remember what it was connected 
with.” 

“Tell me what it was.” 

“ . . . You will show them ...” 

At this point Anastasia, who had been sitting under the 
tree, suddenly sprang up, her face beaming. She put her hands 
on the trunk of the cedar, and pressed her cheek against it. 

“Yes, of course!” she exclaimed, waving her arms with joy 
and delightedly crying out: 

“You are truly great, Monk of Russia! You know, Vladimir, 
there is one thing I can tell you for certain about Father Feo- 
dorit. He has made a mockery of a lot of the world’s teachings 
by showing what is the most essential thing.” 

“He and I never discussed any teachings. We talked about 
everyday things.” 

“Yes, of course! Everyday things! Father Feodorit spoke 
about things you were interested in. Fie showed you sacred 
creations, and treated them with veneration, but avoided 
making a big show of it. Even though he had risen to a high 
rank, he was a very simple man, most importantly, a think- 
ing man — perhaps he was even meditating during the time 
you were with him. And he was not one to expound dogmas. 
Flow silly the preachers of conventional dogmas that flocked 
to Russia from abroad look by comparison with him! They 
only distract one’s attention from the most essential tiling. 
He was so successful at protecting you from dogmas that you 
see me too as a naive recluse. It does not matter who I am. 
What matters is that you stick to the most essential thing.” 



Father Feodorit 


H7 


“What most essential thing?” 

“The thing that is in every Man.” 

“But how can every Man know the teachings of the gurus 
of the West and the East, India and Tibet, if he has never even 
heard of them?” 

‘All essential information has been included in Man, 
Vladimir, in every man right from the start. It is something 
he is given on the day of his creation, just like arms, legs, hair 
and a heart. All the teachings of the world, along with all dis- 
coveries, are taken exclusively from this Source. Just as par- 
ents try to give their child everything, so the Grand Creator 
gives everything to each one right off. Nothing man-made. 
Not a multitude of books, nor the latest computers and the 
computers of the future all taken together, can ever encom- 
pass even a part of the information contained in a single Man. 
One has only to know how to use it.” 

“Then why doesn’t everybody make discoveries? And why 
doesn’t everyone formulate teachings?” 

“Let us say one person manages to extract a grain of truth 
from the whole. And he keeps talking about it enthusiasti- 
cally, thinking it was given to him alone. And that it con- 
tains the most essential thing. He talks it up to others, try- 
ing to make them see it as the one and only important thing. 
But by talking like this, he is blocking the basic complex 
network of information already existing within himself. 
Knowledge of the truth consists not in proclaiming it but 
in living it.” 

‘And what way of living it is characteristic of those who 
best know the truth?” 

‘A happy one!” 

“But to know the truth, one must have a conscious aware- 
ness and purity of thought?!” 

“That is visionary! Fantastic!” Anastasia shrieked with 
laughter, and merrily added: “You read my thoughts?” 



148 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


“Nothing visionary there, it is simply an attentive attitude 
to Man. You’re always relating everything to purity of thought 
and conscious awareness.” 

“Visionary! Visionary!” she repeated, still laughing. “You 
read my thoughts. Oh, how fantastic!” 

Upon hearing her cheery laughter, I too could no longer 
restrain myself and broke into peals of merriment. Later I 
asked: 

“What do you think, Anastasia, will my spiritual father, Fa- 
ther Feodorit, receive me if I go see him? Will he talk with 
me? He won’t be upset?” 

“Of course he will receive you! He will be most happy to see 
you there! He will accept you any way you are. Only he will be 
even happier to see you if you have done at least something us- 
ing the information within you, if he perceives some indication 
that you are aware of it. Stop the fast-forward, Vladimir, and 
you shall understand a great deal.” 

“Does my spiritual father still live in the same place? At the 
Trinity-Sergiev Monastery?” 

“Your spiritual father, that great elder of Rus, is now living in 
a small monastic priory in the forest, not far from the Trinity- 
Sergiev Monastery. The priory’s regulations are stricter than 
those in the monastery, and your spiritual father is the prior 
there. The priory is situated in the forest, in a compellingly 
beautiful setting. There are just a few little houses there, each 
with its own monastic cell. 

“This priory situated in the green forest has a small wood- 
en church. It is not ornately decorated and it does not have 
a gilded dome, but it is very, very beautiful, cosy and clean, 
heated by two stoves. Candles are not bought or sold there, 
as in most other churches. In fact nothing is bought or sold 
there. There is nothing and nobody to desecrate it, and pa- 
rishioners are not allowed access. Even to this day your spir- 
itual father, Father Feodorit, is praying in this church. He is 



Father Feodorit 


149 


praying for the salvation of everyone’s soul, including yours. 
He is praying for children who have forgotten their parents, 
and praying for parents forgotten by their children. Go to 
him and bow before him. Ask for forgiveness of your sins. 
The power of his spirit is very great. And give my deepest 
respects to Father Feodorit.” 

“Fine, Anastasia. I shall do that. And, you know, I shall 
first try and do what you have asked me to.” 


Upon arriving at Sergiev Posad, the town outside Moscow 
which used to be called Zagorsk, I entered the gates of the 
Trinity- Sergiev Monastery just as I used to do twenty-seven 
years ago. I first headed for the gate to the active part of 
the monastery Before, all I had to do was introduce myself 
and ask for Father Feodorit. But this time the monk on duty 
replied that the archpriest was no longer Father Feodorit. 
There was a Father Feodorit at the monastery, living in the 
forest outside the monastery grounds — but parishioners 
did not go there. 

I told the monk that I was an acquaintance of Father Feo- 
dorit’s, and in proof of this I named the monastery sanctuar- 
ies which the Father had showed me so many years ago. Then 
I was told where the forest priory was situated, and with an 
inexplicable shiver of excitement I approached the little 
wooden church in the forest. It was indeed extraordinarily 
beautiful, and blended in harmoniously with the natural envi- 
ronment. There were paths leading to the church from sev- 
eral little wooden cell-houses situated around it. 



150 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

Father Feodorit met with me on the small wooden porch 
of the forest church. I was a bit at a loss for words. I remem- 
bered Anastasia’s counsel: “Only do not be embarrassed and 
try not to act surprised when you meet your spiritual father!” 
Still, I couldn’t get over an inexplicable feeling of trepidation. 
Father Feodorit was old and grey, but no older than he had 
appeared twenty-seven years ago. 

We sat on some blocks of wood on the porch of the little 
forest church without a word between us. I tried to speak, 
but couldn’t manage to come up with the right thing to say 
It seemed as though he already knew the whole picture and 
there was no sense in uttering words. It was as if the twenty- 
seven years since we last met had not gone by at all. It seemed 
as though we had parted only yesterday. 

I had brought along a copy of my book on Anastasia to give 
to Father Feodorit, but I felt reluctant to actually hand it to 
him. I had been showing the book to various clerics. Some 
just took one look at it and said they didn’t read books like 
that. Others asked what it was about, and after my brief ex- 
planation pronounced Anastasia an infidel. I didn’t feel like 
upsetting Father Feodorit and certainly didn’t want him to re- 
ject her out of hand. Each time someone had tried to speak 
ill of Anastasia, a feeling of resistance had welled up in me. I 
even had a row about it with the deacon of the Novospassky 
Monastery 3 Fie pointed out two women wearing dark cloth- 
ing and black head-scarves and said: 

“That is how God-fearing women should be.” 

I responded: 

“If Anastasia is happy and enjoying life, that may well be 
pleasing to God. It is more pleasant to see people enjoying 
life than being dull and downcast like that.” 


3 Novospassky Monastery — claimed to be the oldest monastery in Moscow, 
dating back to the founding of Moscow in 1147 by Prince Yury Dolgoruky. 



Father Feodorit 


151 

So it was with some trepidation that I finally got out my 
book and handed it to Father Feodorit. He took it quietly 
and held it in the palm of one hand. 

He began gently stroking it with his other hand, as though 
feeling something with his palms, and asked: 

“Do you want me to read it?” And, without waiting for an 
answer, added: “Fine, leave it with me.” 

Two days later, I paid a morning visit to Father Feodorit. 
We sat there in the forest on a tiny bench near the Father’s 
cell. And we talked about all sorts of things. While his man- 
ner of speaking was pretty much the same as twenty-seven 
years ago, one thing bothered me: why did Father Feodorit 
look just a bit younger than twenty-seven years ago? And all at 
once he broke off his train of thought and said: 

“You know, Vladimir, your Father Feodorit has passed on.” 

At first I was speechless, but then managed to ask: 

“Then who are you?” 

“I am Father Feodorit,” he replied, looking at me with just 
a faint trace of a smile. I then asked him: 

“Tell me, where is his grave?” 

“In the old cemetery” 

“I’d like to see it. Can you tell me how to get there?” 

Fie didn’t say anything about the grave, only: 

“Come and see me again whenever you have the time.” 

And then an incredible experience began taking place. 

“Time for dinner,” said Father Feodorit. “Come, I’ll give 
you something to eat.” 

In a small hut which served as a refectory I sat down to 
table. The table was set out with a tureen of borsch, mashed 
potatoes, fish and a drink with stewed fruit. He poured some 
borsch into a bowl for me, and I began eating. The Father 
himself did not eat. He simply sat at the table. 

As soon as I started in on the potatoes, I felt a delightful 
taste in my mouth. It brought back memories. The potatoes 



152 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


tasted exactly as they had done in the monastery refectory 
twenty-seven years ago. I had remembered it all my life since 
then. My head began spinning. On the one hand, here was 
a different Father Feodorit sitting beside me; on the other 
hand, he talked and behaved exactly as I remembered from 
before. 

I recalled how one time, many years ago, when we were to- 
gether in one of the rooms of the monastery, Father Feodorit 
had suggested I have my picture taken with him. I agreed. 
He called over one of the monks who had a camera and he 
took our picture. Now I decided to use this to introduce 
some clarity to my present situation. I knew that monks did 
not like to pose for pictures. And the thought came to me to 
ask Father Feodorit if he would mind if I had a colour picture 
taken of us and that I also wanted to take one of the little 
forest church. If he refused, that would mean he was not the 
same Father Feodorit, not my Father Feodorit. And so I sug- 
gested: 

“Let me have my picture taken with you.” 

Father Feodorit did not refuse, and we had our picture tak- 
en. And I also took a snapshot of the little church. It turned 
out rather well, even though I had a very simple camera. 

As I was leaving. Father Feodorit gave me a small travel 
Bible. It was not laid out in verses, like all the other Bibles I 
had seen, but simply in running text, as in an ordinary book. 
He advised me: 

“When you cite the Bible in your book, you should indi- 
cate the precise chapter you are quoting from .” 4 

I asked him whether he would be open to receiving and 
talking with people who wished to meet with Anastasia, so 

4 The Russian edition of Anastasia includes no chapter-and-verse referenc- 
es; those in the English edition of Book i were added by the translator and 
editor. 



Father Feodorit 


153 


they wouldn’t have to travel such a long distance to the Sibe- 
rian taiga. To which he replied: 

“You know, I still haven’t fully understood myself. So, for 
now, just come alone, whenever you have the time.” 

I was disappointed by Father Feodorit’s refusal to see other 
people, but I wasn’t about to press the matter. My conversa- 
tion with him on a variety of subjects led me to the follow- 
ing conclusion: in Russian monasteries there are to be found 
certain elders whose wisdom and simplicity of expression far 
surpasses the art of countless numbers of denominational 
preachers, either of the home-grown or imported variety 

But why are you silent, you elders of Russia that have been 
endowed with such wisdom? Is this something to which you 
have been led on your own, or are there dark forces of some 
kind that are preventing you from speaking out? People 
come to a church service, and it turns out to be in a language 
they don’t understand . 5 And then people flock in droves and 
even pay money to hear preachers talk in a language they can 
understand. Maybe that is why so many Russians flock to for- 
eign holy places and ignore their own. 

I always felt a sense of peace in my heart after speaking 
with Father Feodorit. The way he talks is a lot simpler, clear- 
er and more understandable than the vast majority of the 
preachers I went to hear after meeting with Anastasia in my 
efforts to make some sense of what she said. I want others 
to have a good experience, too. But when will you speak out, 
wise elders of Russia? 


’Russian Orthodox services are conducted in Old Church Slavonic, which 
is an ancient distant relative of Russian but barely comprehensible to to- 
day’s Russian speakers. 



Chapter Twenty-Five 



if Love 


After the sale of the first print-run of the book about Anas- 
tasia I received a royalty payment. I went to VDNKh, 1 now 
known as the All-Russian Exhibition Centre. For some rea- 
son, I always enjoyed being there. This time I walked past 
the multitude of snack bars and shashlik buffets, tempting 
me with their delicious aromas, and fought against my incli- 
nation to buy all the delicacies in sight. Even though I had 
money in my pocket, and a fair amount at that, I decided I 
would now spend it more wisely. And all at once, another in- 
credible thing happened. It wasn’t loud, but, unmistakably 
and distinctly, I heard Anastasia’s voice. 

“Buy yourself something to eat, Vladimir. Buy whatever 
you like. You do not have to scrimp on food any more.” 

I kept on walking a few steps past the open snack bars, and 
again came the voice: 

“Why are you walking on past? Please, have something to 
eat, Vladimir.” 

“Come on now, I’m having hallucinations!” I thought. 

I walked over to a bench alongside a broad pathway, where 
there was hardly anyone else around. I sat down and whis- 
pered quietly, bending over so people wouldn’t think I was 
talking to myself. 


1 VDNKh (pronounced veb-deb-en-KHA) — the Russian initials denoting 
the former Economic Achievements Exposition, a huge exhibition and 
recreational complex (complete with a large park, fountains and unusual 
architecture) covering 140 hectares in the north-east sector of Moscow 



The Space of Love 


155 


‘Anastasia, am I really hearing your voice?” 

And I heard the answer distinct and clear: 

“You are hearing my voice, Vladimir.” 

“Hello, Anastasia. Why didn’t you talk to me earlier? So many 
questions have been piling up. Questions people have been ask- 
ing at readers’ gatherings, including a lot I can’t answer.” 

“I have been talking to you. I have been trying all this time 
to talk with you. But you have not been hearing me. Once, 
when you decided to do away with yourself, I even cried out, I 
was so worried, but to no avail. You did not hear me. I figured 
out what I needed to do and started singing. It was this song 
that the two girls picked up and played on their violins at the 
metro station. They heard it and started playing. As soon as 
you recognised the same melody you had heard me sing in the 
taiga, you remembered me. I was so worried at the time, I 
thought my milk was going to give out.” 

“What milk, Anastasia?” 

“My breast-milk. The milk for our son. After all, I did bear 
him, Vladimir.” 

“Did bear... Anastasia!... Was it hard? How are you doing 
there all alone in the taiga? How is he? You told me — I re- 
member your saying — it wouldn’t be at the right time.” 

“Everything is fine. Nature awakened early and is now 
helping me. And our son is fine. He is a strong lad. He is al- 
ready smiling. Only his skin is a little dry, just like yours. But 
that is nothing, it will pass. Everything will be fine. You shall 
see. It is more difficult {or you now than for us. But take one 
more step. Finish the writing. I know how hard it has been 
for you, and it will not be so easy in the future either. But 
keep going. Keep going on your own path.” 

“But Anastasia...” 

I wanted to tell her that writing a book is harder than run- 
ning a business. I wanted to tell her about how things stood 
with my family and the firm. About all the ups and downs of 



156 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


the past year. About how I no longer have a home and family, 
and almost ended up in the loony bin. I wanted to give her a 
good talking to about those dreams of hers, so she wouldn’t 
aim too high with them, wouldn’t keep on tempting people. 
But then I thought: why upset a nursing mother? — her milk 
might indeed turn bad. 

And so I said: 

“Don’t you worry about trifles, Anastasia. I don’t have any 
particular difficulties at the moment. What’s the fuss? I’ve 
written a book. And it was easier than drawing up a business 
plan. When you draw up a business plan, there are a lot of 
different factors you have to foresee in advance. But here you 
simply sit down and describe what’s already happened. Just as 
in the jokes about the Chukchi: ‘I sing what I see .’ 2 

‘And besides... you know something, Anastasia? Those 
dreams of yours, which I thought were sheer fantasy, they’re 
starting to come true. It’s incredible, but they are coming 
true. Look, the book is finished. You dreamt about it, and 
now it exists. People are really reading it enthusiastically 
The Moscow papers are already writing about it. Readers are 
writing poetry about you, about Nature, about Russia. 

“I found the picture we talked about in the archives of the 
Trinity- Sergiev Monastery. The picture has been preserved, 
it’s entitled “The One and Only by a Single Line”.’ I shall 
publish it. 

2 J sing what I see — a reference to a song of the Chukchi (the native people 
of the Chukotka Peninsula in Siberia), where the singer sings about what- 
ever he happens to see. This particular phrase has given rise to many Rus- 
sian jokes. In this case the author is light-heartedly applying the phrase to 
his own writing activity 

J The One and Only by a Single Line — this picture in the private collection of the 
Trinity-Sergiev Monastery is a copy of a famous engraving by Claude Mellan 
(1598-1688), Veil of St Veronica (1649). It represents the face of Christ Jesus 
(‘the One and Only 1 ) surmounted by a crown of thorns and is executed by a 
single spiral line in 166 revolutions. 



The Space of Love 


157 


‘‘Arid, can you imagine, the bards... you remember telling 
me about the bards?” 

“Yes, I remember, Vladimir.” 

“Surprising as it is, this too is starting to come about. I 
was at one readers’ conference where I was approached by 
this chap with dark blond hair. He handed me an audiocas- 
sette and said, in terse, military fashion: ‘Songs lor Anastasia. 
Please accept.’ 

“The journalists, readers and two of the staff of the Mos- 
cow Research Centre, Alexander Solntsev 4 and Alexander Za- 
kotsfcy. who had come to the conference — they all listened in 
silence to the tape. Later a number of people began making 
copies of it. They made copies and at the same time tried to 
track down the man who had given it to me — whose looks, 
apart from his dark-blond hair and short stature, didn’t have 
much to say for themselves. He had appeared, it seemed, out 
of nowhere, and disappeared just as mysteriously He turned 
out to be a submarine officer from St. Petersburg, a scientist 
by the name of Alexander Korotynsky . 5 He later told me how 
the submarine he was on managed to rise to the surface after 
an accident. How he had been confidently led by a series of 
coincidences in connection with this cassette. Led to hand 


4 Alexander Vasilievich Solntsev (1951-) — a Siberian entrepreneur, a former 
acquaintance of Vladimir Megre’s. After spotting a small book with Meg- 
re’s name on the cover, Solntsev (who by this time had relocated with his 
family to Moscow and lost sight of his former colleague) contacted the au- 
thor and in March 1997 became founding director of the Moscow-based 
“Anastasia” Research Centre, managing the publication of Megre’s books, 
organising readers’ conferences, clubs, trips to dolmens, etc. More recently 
Solntsev has devoted himself to setting up an eco-village in the Smolensk 
Oblast and reinvigorating the tradition of cultivation of flax. He has also 
authored a book on the Caucasus, entitled Dolmens. 

’Since this book was published Alexander Korotynsky has released several 
song albums inspired by the Ringing Cedars Series. 



158 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

it to me. Not only that, but Korotynsky turned out to be 
a bard as well. And his song Khram (The Church) contains 
whole phrases which you said to me. Remember these, for 
example? 


Believe not others’ words — 

Once said, they’re gone as wind. 

Many will see the Church 
But few will enter in. 

Our life may be a race: 

From floor to floor we’re thrown. 

But every one must face 
The choice he’s made his own. 

“Besides, Korotynsky doesn’t really have a singing voice. 
He practically recites when he sings. But that very fact goes 
to prove what you said about the power of the word connect- 
ed to the soul by invisible threads. Korotynsky the Bard is a 
living example.” 

“For all the bright joy you have been giving to people, for 
the purification of souls, I thank you, Bard, I thank you,” said 
Anastasia. 

“Just think — another officer!” I mused. “Grutsia, who 
first printed the book — he was an officer. And the home- 
less colonel who drew the picture for it. And then there was 
a pilot, a regimental commander, who’s been helping me sell 
the books. And now the first one to bring me songs turns out 
to be an officer. What is it about your Ray that seems to set 
officers’ hearts afire in particular? Do you shine your Ray on 
them more than others?” 

“Many have been touched by my Ray, Vladimir, but it 
sparks aspirations only when there is something there to set 
aflame.” 



The Space of Love 


159 


“Your dream, Anastasia, is indeed turning more and more 
into reality. People are grasping hold of it, they understand 
it. The homeless colonel understood. He was a chance ac- 
quaintance — pity he’s gone. I saw him lying dead there. His 
face was all smeared with dirt, but he was smiling. Dead, but 
still smiling. Did you do something there with your Ray? 
What does that mean, when someone dies with a smile on 
their face?” 

“That Man that was with you... he is now with the Bard, 
treading the invisible pathway. His smile is saving many 
hearts from bullets more terrible than the leaden ones.” 

“Your dream, Anastasia, is entering upon our world, and 
it really seems as though our world is beginning to change. 
There are certain people who feel and understand you — they 
show evidence of new strength coming from somewhere, and 
that is changing the world. The world is becoming just a little 
better. 

“But you, Anastasia... there you are as before, in the taiga, 
in your glade. I would not be able to live in such conditions, 
and you would not be able to live in our world. What then is 
the point of your love? Your love is meaningless, and I still do 
not understand my relationship to you. But what’s the point 
since it’s so clear we can never be together? Never close.” 

“We are together, Vladimir. Close.” 

“Together?! Where are you? When people love each oth- 
er, they strive to be always close to each other. To embrace 
and caress each other. You’re too different. You don’t need 
that.” 

“I do need it. Just like everyone else. And I am making it 
happen.” 

“But how?” 

“Right now, for example. Can you not feel the gentle touch 
of the breeze, feel its caressing embrace? And the warm 
touch of the Sun’s glistening rays on your face? Can you not 



160 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

hear the birds singing so cheerfully and the leaves rustling on 
the tree you are sitting under? Listen — it is a most unusual 
rustling!” 

“But that — everything you just mentioned — that’s for 
everyone. In any case, are you responsible for all that?” 

“Love dissolved in Space for one can touch the hearts of 
many” 

“Why dissolve Love in Space?” 

“So that close to a loved one there will always be a Space 
of Love. This is the essence of Love, this is its designated 
purpose.” 

“It’s all pretty confusing to me. And your voice... Before, I 
never heard anything at a distance, but now I do. Why?” 

“It is not the voice that you hear at a distance. You need to 
listen not with your ears, but with your heart. You need to 
learn how to listen with your heart.” 

“Why should I bother learning? You can just talk with me 
the way you’re doing right now, with your voice.” 

“I shall not be able to do that indefinitely” 

“But you’re doing it right now After all, I can hear you.” 

“Grandfather is helping us at the moment. You go have 
a talk with him. I need to go feed our son, and there are so 
many other tilings to do. I do want to get them all done.” 

“So, it works with your grandfather, but not with you. 
Why?” 

“Because Grandfather is somewhere in your vicinity right 
now. Very close to you.” 

“Where?” 



Chapter Twenty-Six 



Anastasias 



I looked about me. There was Anastasia’s grandfather, stand- 
ing right close to the bench, using his walking-stick to push 
a piece of litter someone had thoughtlessly tossed on the 
grass toward a rubbish bin. I jumped up. We shook hands. 
His kindly eyes were sparkling with cheer, and he talked in 
simple terms. Not like his father. When I saw Anastasia’s 
great-grandfather back in the taiga, he hardly said a word, and 
his eyes kept staring into space, as though they were looking 
right through you. 

Grandfather and I sat down on the bench, and I asked 
him: 

“How did you get here? How did you find me?” 

“It wasn’t much of a problem getting here and finding you 
with Anastasia’s help.” 

“She’s really something, eh?! She’s had a child! She said she 
would have one, and she did. Alone, out there in the taiga, 
not in any hospital. It must have been painful for her. Did 
she cry out?” 

“Now why would you think it was painful for her?” 

“Well, women, when they give birth — it’s painful. Some 
of them even die during childbirth.” 

“It’s painful only when a child is conceived in sin. As 
a result of fleshly lusts. Women pay for this with pain in 
childbirth and torments afterward in life. If the conception 
takes place with higher aspirations, the pain only intensifies 
the feeling of the great joy of creation on the part of the 
mother.” 



162 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


“Where does the pain go, then? How can it intensify joy?” 

“When a woman is raped, what does she feel? Of course 
she feels pain and revulsion. B ut when she gives in of her own 
free will, that same pain is transformed into different sensa- 
tions. The same is true in regard to childbirth.” 

“Does that mean Anastasia experienced a painless child- 
birth?” 

“Of course it was painless. And she chose a suitable day, a 
warm and sunny day” 

“What do you mean, she chose? Childbirth happens quite 
unexpectedly.” 

“Unexpectedly, if the conception simply takes place by 
chance. A mother is always capable of delaying or accelerat- 
ing her baby’s appearance by a few days.” 

“But weren’t you aware of when the baby was due? Didn’t 
you take steps to help her?” 

“We did feel something happening on that day It was a 
splendid day We walked over to her glade. Saw the she-bear 
sitting at the edge of the glade, moaning because her feelings 
were hurt. She kept moaning and pounding her paw on the 
ground with all her might. Anastasia was lying on the same 
spot where her mother had given birth to her, and there was 
this little ball of life lying on her breast. The she-wolf was 
licking him.” 

‘And why was the bear moaning? How had her feelings 
been hurt?” 

‘Anastasia had called the wolf over instead of her.” 

“She could have gone to her on her own.” 

“They do not approach Anastasia without an invitation. 
Just think what would happen if they all came uninvited, 
whenever they felt like it.” 

“I wonder how she’s managing with the baby now.” 

“Why don’t you go and see for yourself, if you’re inter- 
ested?” 



Anastasia s grandfather 


163 


“She told me I shouldn’t communicate with him until I 
purge myself of something. First of all I have to go ’round to 
the holy places. But I don’t have enough money for that.” 

“Don’t go by what she said — she doesn’t always make 
sense. You’re the father, after all. You should do what you 
think best. You could buy a whole bunch of rompers and oth- 
er baby clothes, packages of diapers, a little jacket, a rattle 
maybe, and demand that she dress the baby normally, and not 
make him suffer. He’s all naked out there in the forest.” 

“I’ve been wanting to do that ever since I heard about my 
son. I will do it. As for not making sense, I think you hit the 
nail right on the head. That’s probably why I don’t really un- 
derstand my feelings toward her. First it was amazement, now 
some kind of feeling of respect has appeared, and something 
else besides which I can’t grasp hold of. But not on the order 
of love for a woman. I still remember the kind of feelings 
I had when I loved a woman before. This here’s something 
quite different. It’s quite possible that she cannot be loved 
in the ordinary sense of the word. Something gets in the way. 
Maybe it’s her illogicality, her failure to make complete sense 
all the time.” 

“Don’t take Anastasia’s illogicality, Vladimir, for stupidity. 
It is her seeming illogicality that is drawing forgotten laws 
out of the depths of the Universe, and possibly creating new 
laws. 

“The forces of both light and darkness are occasionally as- 
tounded at her apparent illogicality, and then all at once the 
simple truth of being that everyone knows starts flaring up 
more brightly. Even we don’t always comprehend our Anas- 
tasia. Even though she’s our own granddaughter and great- 
granddaughter. She grew up under our very eyes. And since 
we don’t always understand, we are not always able to be of 
significant help. And so she’s often left alone with her own 
aspirations. Very much alone. 



i6 4 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


“Take you, for example. Here she’s gone and met with you, 
opened up her whole self to you, and to others, thanks to the 
book. We wanted to stop her. We wanted to stop her from 
loving. To us her choice of you seemed incomprehensible, 
even absurd.” 

“I still don’t understand her choice myself,” I admitted. 
“My readers, too, wonder. Who are you? they keep asking. 
Why did Anastasia choose you?’ I can’t give them an answer. 
I realise that, according to all logic, she should be in the com- 
pany of some kind of intellectually- or spiritually-minded 
person. He would no doubt be able to understand and love 
her. They could be more useful together. But me, I have to 
change my whole life, I have to deal with a whole lot of ques- 
tions which for other more educated people have long been 
clear and comprehensible.” 

“Do you regret now how your life has changed?” 

“I don’t know I’m still trying to make sense of it all. As 
to why she picked me out in particular, I can’t answer that. I 
look for an answer but can’t find one.” 

‘And how are you looking for an answer?” 

“I’m trying to understand things within myself — who I 
really am.” 

“Maybe there’s something special there, eh?” 

“Could be there’s something there. After all, they say: like 
attracts like.” 

“Vladimir, did Anastasia talk to you about pride and self- 
conceit? Did she speak about the consequences of this 
sin?” 

“Yes, she said it was a mortal sin, leading people away 
from the truth.” 

“Well, she didn’t pick you out, Vladimir. She didn’t pick 
you out, she picked you up. She picked you up like a worn-out 
good-for-nothing. We didn’t realise that ourselves at first. I 
hope you’re not too offended?” 



Anastasia s grandfather 


165 


“I don’t entirely agree with you. I had a family — a wife and 
a daughter, and my business wasn’t doing too badly. So, I may 
not have been anything special, but I wasn’t at the bottom of 
the heap, either — not someone to pick up like a tramp or a 
useless piece of garbage.” 

“You haven’t been in love with your wife for quite a while. 
You have your own life and interests, she has hers. It was only 
the daily routine that kept you together, or rather, the inertia of 
past feelings, which have been getting weaker and weaker over 
time. Neither have you had anything to talk about with your 
daughter. She’s not interested in your business dealings. That’s 
something that seemed important only to you. It brought in 
a financial income. But today’s income may well be nothing 
tomorrow, or a loss, or a bankruptcy even. And then you were 
ill. You practically killed your stomach. With that dissolute 
lifestyle of yours there was no way you could climb out of your 
hole of disease. It was all over. And nothing was left.” 

“So what’s it to you people? What am I to her? An experi- 
ment? Is she looking for some kind of fringe benefit?” 

“It’s simply that she’s fallen in love, Vladimir. Genuinely, 
sincerely, just as with everything else she does. And she’s 
happy that she hasn’t taken anyone out of your world capable 
of bringing happiness to another woman. She has not placed 
herself in any privileged position. She’s glad to be just like 
other women.” 


“So, it’s just a whim of hers, eh? She wants a typical hus- 
band from our world — one who smokes, goes out carousing... 
Well, I must say that’s quite a self-sacrifice just for a whim!” 

“Her love is genuine. It’s not a whim, she’s not looking for 
any fringe benefit. Even though she appeared illogical, at first, 
to the forces of both light and darkness, to us and to others, in 


reality she clearly illuminated the whole concept and meaning 
of Love. Not with words, doctrines or moral teachings, but 


with actual achievements in the lives of people in your world, 



1 66 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

including your own personal life. The forces of light, the 
forces of the Creator, speak through her Love. And not only 
do they speak, they show clearly as never before: ‘Look and 
see, see the power of a woman, the power of pure Love.’ At 
the very last moment before death it is capable of giving new 
life. Capable of lifting up any Man, rescuing him from the 
tenacious paws of darkness and carrying him into the bright- 
ness of infinity. Capable of surrounding him with the Space of 
Love and giving him a new life, which is life eternal. 

“Her Love, Vladimir, will restore to you the love of your 
wife, the respect of your daughter. Thousands of women 
will look at you with fervent glances of love. You will have 
complete freedom of choice. And if, from all the varied mani- 
festations of the external appearance of love, you succeed in 
catching sight of that special one, Anastasia will be very hap- 
py In any case you will be rich and famous, there will be no 
possibility of bankruptcy for you. The book you have written 
will circulate all over the world and bring you a return — and 
not just a monetary return, it will give you and others a power 
greater than mere physical or material strength.” 

“I must say,” I observed, “the book is really starting to sell 
quite well. But I did write it myself, even though some people 
say Anastasia helped me in some way. What do you think — is 
it just my book, or did she have a hand in writing it?” 

“You did everything a writer is supposed to do. You got the 
paper, your hand controlled the pen and you described what 
happened. You put down all your deductions in your own 
language. You saw to the publication of the book. What you 
did was no different from a writer’s usual course of action.” 

“So, the book is mine alone? Anastasia didn’t do anything?” 

“No, she did not. She did not manipulate the pen on the paper.” 

“But you talk as though she still facilitated its appearance 
in some way If so, explain in more detail. What exactly did 
she do?” 



Anastasia’s grandfather 167 

“To make it possible for you to write this book, Vladimir, 
Anastasia gave her life.” 

“Okay Now everything’s got obscured again. How come? 
How is it possible for her, living in the forest, to give her life 
for some book? Who is she? She herself says: Man. Other 
people call her an alien, or a goddess. Now that all ends up in 
some serious confusion. I really want to straighten this out 
for myself.” 

“It’s all very simple, Vladimir. AFan is the only creature in 
the Universe who can live on all planes of existence at once. 
In their earthly existence most people see themselves only as 
an earthly, materialised manifestation. But there are those 
who perceive other levels of being, levels invisible to the ma- 
terial senses. 

“Calling Anastasia a goddess is not a sin against the truth. 
The main difference between Man and all other forms of ex- 
istence lies in Man’s ability to create the present and the fu- 
ture by his thoughts, inventing forms and images which are 
afterward materialised. The clarity, harmoniousness, pace of 
thinking and mental purity of Man as a Creator is what de- 
termines the future. And in this sense Anastasia is a goddess. 
For the pace at which she thinks, the clarity and purity of the 
images she formulates, are such that she alone has proved ca- 
pable of withstanding the whole dark mass of opposing forc- 
es. She alone. Only there is no way of telling how long she’ll 
be able to hold out. She’s still waiting, believing that people 
will realise what is happening and will help her. Believing that 
they will cease producing darkness and hell.” 

“Who’s producing darkness and hell?” 

“Prophets who believe in and talk about the end of the 
world — they themselves are producing mental visualisations 
of the end of the world. The whole mass of teachings foretell- 
ing the ultimate doom of mankind, are hastening the day with 
their visualisations. There are a lot of them, a whole lot of 



168 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

them. And these people have no idea, while they seek salva- 
tion for themselves and search for the Promised Land, that a 
hell is being prepared specifically for them.” 

“But the people that are talking about the Last Judgement 
or a global catastrophe, they actually believe in it, they’re sin- 
cerely praying for the salvation of their souls.” 

“They are motivated not by faith in the light, in the Love 
that is God, but by fear. And this fearful scenario is some- 
thing they are fashioning for themselves. Think, Vladimir! 
Try to imagine. Here we are, you and I, sitting on this bench. 
You see lots of people before your eyes. All at once some of 
them start to go into fits of convulsion from terrible pain, as 
though they were sinners. All around us on the Earth millions 
of corpses are rotting, while you and I sit here untouched by 
it all and watch. It’s as though we are sitting on a bench in 
Paradise. But doesn’t it wrench your heart to see all the hor- 
rifying images of what’s going on? Wouldn’t it be better to die 
or fall asleep the moment before witnessing such tragedy?” 

“What if all the righteous who are saved,” I wondered 
aloud, “are in the Promised Land, where there are no rotting 
corpses around, no frightful images?” 

“When you get news, even from the other side of the 
world, about the death of a loved one, or a relative, don’t you 
feel grief and sorrow in your heart?” 

‘Anyone in a situation like that would surely be distressed.” 

“Then how can you imagine Paradise for yourself, realising 
that most of your fellow-countrymen, your friends and rela- 
tives, have already perished, and others are dying in frightful 
torment?! How hardened must a heart become, how deep a 
pit of gloom must it fall into, to feel pleasure under such cir- 
cumstances? Such souls are not needed in the kingdom of 
light. For they themselves are the creatures of darkness.” 

“But why do the great teachers of mankind,” I queried, 
the ones who’ve put or are now putting various doctrines down 



Anastasia ’s grandfather 


169 


on paper — talk about the end of the world, the Last Judge- 
ment? Who, then, are they ? Where are they leading people? 
Why do they talk that way?” 

“It’s difficult to define precisely what they’re getting at. 
It’s possible they will bring about a change in people’s con- 
scious awareness simply because the crowds of people they 
draw find their ideas so attractive.” 

“Those who are alive today can effect such a change,” I ob- 
served. “But what about those who came before and left their 
teachings for us as a legacy?” 

“They might have indeed prepared the way for a change, in 
the hope that their followers would make the change happen 
and discover the truth. Perhaps they’re waiting for the course 
of history to show the vast majority of mankind the hopeless- 
ness of their present path, and counting on ensuing events to 
help them turn their followers and believers to the light.” 

“If you people knew all this before, why did you sit there 
in the forest and remain silent all these years? Why didn’t 
you try to explain it to somebody earlier? Anastasia said your 
people have been living this way of life for generations, over 
thousands of years, preserving the truth about Man’s pristine 
origins.” 

“In various corners of the Earth,” the grandfather replied, 
“there are people who have preserved a way of life apart from 
technocracy, making use of capacities which are inherent only 
in Alan. From time to time they have made attempts to share 
their conscious awareness with others. And each time those 
who tried perished before they could say anything substantial. 
Even though they presented powerful thought-forms and im- 
ages, they were resisted by the vast majority of mankind.” 

“You mean to say they would trample on Anastasia and 
crush her?” 

‘Anastasia has somehow managed to stand up to them. At 
least so far. Maybe it’s because of her illogicality!” 



Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


170 

The old fellow fell silent, thoughtfully tracing the point of 
his walking-stick on the ground to form incomprehensible 
symbols. 

I sat there, deep in thought. Finally I asked him: 

“Then why did she keep repeating to me all the time: I am 
Man! I am a woman! — if she’s really a goddess, as you say?” 

“In her earthly, materialised sense of existence she is simply 
Man, a human being, a woman. And even though her lifestyle 
is somewhat unusual, she is still capable, just like anyone else, 
of experiencing feelings of joy and sorrow, loving and wanting 
to be loved. 

“But all the abilities she has are inherent in Man, in every 
Man — that is, in Man in his pristine state. The abilities she 
had which seemed so extraordinary will no longer seem so 
exceptional to you once you learn what your modern science 
has to say about them. And as to the other abilities she has 
which are still not understood, rest assured an explanation 
will be found. And it will all go to show that she is simply 
Man, a female of the human species. 

“There is one phenomenon you will soon encounter, how- 
ever, which you won’t be able to understand. Nor will your 
scientists be able to explain it. Even my father doesn’t know 
exactly what kind of phenomenon it is. Your world calls such 
things anomalies. But I beg of you, Vladimir, don’t identify 
this phenomenon with Anastasia. It will appear right beside 
her, but it is not in her. Try to find the inner strength to see, 
to feel in her what is simply Man. 

“She tries to be like everyone else. For some reason, she 
feels it’s important — she feels a need — a need to prove that 
she is Man. This is difficult for her, since in doing so she must 
still keep her principles intact. But, then, don’t we all have 
principles that are sacred to us?” 

“But what kind of phenomenon are you talking about — 
this thing you won’t define and which science can’t explain?” 



Chapter Twenty-Seven 




anomaly 


“When we buried Anastasia’s parents, she was still very 
young,” Anastasia’s grandfather began. “She wasn’t yet able 
to walk or talk. My father and I dug a hole in the ground, 
with the animals’ help. We placed branches at the bottom, 
put the bodies of Anastasia’s parents in the hole and covered 
them over with grass and earth. We stood there a while on 
the burial mound without saying a word. Little Anastasia sat 
a short distance away in the glade, watching a bug crawling 
along her arm. We thought it was just as well that she wasn’t 
yet able to be fully aware of the misfortune that had befallen 
her. Then we quietly walked away” 

“What do you mean, you walked away? You just walked 
off and abandoned this poor, ignorant little girl to her own 
devices?” 

“We didn’t abandon her. We left her in the same spot where 
her mother had given birth to her. You have a concept known 
as Shambala, 1 or Motherland. The meaning of these words is 
becoming more and more abstract. Motherland — that is lit- 
erally MOTHER-LAND . 2 Mother! In anticipation of their 


1 Shambala — a Tibetan word indicating 'the source of happiness’ in Ori- 
ental religions, and signifying the legendary ‘land of the gods’ — a place 
through which the Earth is connected with the Divine. 

Motherland — the closest English equivalent of the Russian word Rodina, 
derived from the name of God the Creator Rod in the ancient Slavic tradi- 
tion (the word rod also signifies ‘origin’, ‘derivation’ or ‘birth’) and the root 
na signifying ‘mother’. In the original Russian text, the word is printed as 
‘ROD I NA’. 



172 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


child’s appearance in the world, parents ought to create a 
Space for him. An environment of kindness and love. And 
to give him a piece of the Alotherland, which, like a moth- 
er’s womb, both preserves the body and caresses the soul. It 
imparts the wisdom of creation and assists in obtaining the 
truth. 

“And what can a woman give her child who is born amidst 
stone walls? What kind of world has she made ready for him? 
Or has she given any thought at all to the world in which her 
child is to live? In that case the world will do with him as it 
likes. It will strive to subject this little human being unto it- 
self, making him a mere cog, or a slave. And the mother will 
simply become an observer, as she has not made ready for her 
child any Space of Love. 

“You see, Vladimir, Nature — the Nature surrounding 
Anastasia’s mother, the creatures large and small — treated 
her as they would treat any Man who lived the way she did: as 
a friend, as a wise and good deity, one who had created around 
her a world of Love. Anastasia’s parents were happy and kind 
people, they very much loved one another, loved the Earth, 
and the Space around them responded to them with Love. 
Little Anastasia was born into this Space of Love and at once 
became its centre. 

“ Man y creatures will not touch a newborn. A mother cat 
may nurse a puppy, or a mother dog a kitten. Many wild ani- 
mals are capable of nursing and taking care of human offspring. 
But these animals have become wild to people in your world. 
To Anastasia’s mother and father they played quite another 
role. The creatures treated them entirely differently. Anasta- 
sia’s mother gave birth to her in the glade, and many creatures 
were witness to the birth. They saw how the woman they re- 
vered became a mother and bore another Man, another human 
being. When they witnessed the birth, their feelings toward 
their human friend, their love for her, intertwined with their 



The anomaly 173 

own parenting instincts, giving birth to a new exalted manifes- 
tation of light. 

“Everything, absolutely everything in that surrounding 
Space, from the tiniest bug and blade of grass to the seem- 
ingly ferocious beast, was ready, unhesitatingly, to give its life 
for the sake of that little being. And there was nothing in that 
surrounding Space of Motherland, created and bestowed by 
its mother, that could possibly have threatened that being. 
Everything would look after and cherish this human being. 

“To Anastasia the little glade is literally a mother’s womb. 
The glade is her living Motherland. Powerful and kind. And 
inextricably tied by a natural, living thread to the whole Uni- 
verse. To the whole creation of the Grand Creator. 

“The little glade is her living Motherland. It came from 
her mother and her father. And from the One and Only, the 
Original Father. We could never be a substitute for it. That is 
why, after burying her parents, we walked away. 

“Three days later, while we were approaching the glade, we felt 
a tension in the air, we heard wolves howling. Then we saw. . . 

“Little Anastasia was sitting quietly atop the burial mound. 
One of her cheeks was smeared with earth. We realised she 
had been sleeping on the mound. Tiny tears were streaming 
from her eyes and falling onto the ground. She was crying, 
noiselessly, with only an occasional sob. And she kept strok- 
ing and stroking the burial mound with her little hands. 

“She wasn’t able to talk, but she did say her first words on 
this mound. We heard them. At first she simply uttered syl- 
lables: Ma-tna, then Pa-pa. She repeated this several times. 
Then she added a syllable to each: Ma-moch-ka, Pa-poch-ka, 
Ma-moch-ka, Pa-poch-ka ? I amAna-sta-SI-ya. I now have you no 
more. Eh? Only my grand-pas? Eh? 


3 Mamochka , Papochka — in Russian, common diminutives of Mama and Papa 
respectively 



174 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

“My father was the first to realise it: even as we were bury- 
ing her parents, little Anastasia, sitting there in the glade and 
watching the bug, was fully aware of the whole depth of the 
misfortune that had befallen her. She used her will-power to 
refrain from showing her feelings. With her mother’s milk she 
had been imbued with the wisdom and strength of her pris- 
tine origins. Nursing mothers have that capacity, Vladimir. 
The capacity to pass along to their baby, together with moth- 
er’s milk, the conscious awareness and wisdom of the ages, 
right back to their pristine origins. 

‘Anastasia’s mother knew how to do this, and used this 
method to full advantage. To the fullest possible advantage. 

“Since Anastasia didn’t want us to see her crying, we didn’t 
go out into the glade, and didn’t approach the mound, but we 
couldn’t tear ourselves from the spot. So we just stood there, 
observing what was going on. 

“Supporting herself on the burial mound, little Anastasia 
attempted to stand on her little feet. She didn’t do it on 
the first try, but still, she managed to stand up. She stood 
there swaying back and forth, stretching her arms out a lit- 
tle to each side, and finally took her first timid step away 
from her parents’ grave, then a second step. Her little feet 
got mixed up in the grass and her little body lost its balance 
and started to fall. But the fall — well, that was something 
quite unusual. 

‘At the moment she fell, a barely noticeable bluish glow 
came flooding over the glade, and changed the Earth’s laws 
of gravity just on that particular spot. It touched us too with 
some kind of mellow languor. Anastasia’s body didn’t fall, but 
gradually and smoothly descended to the ground. Once she 
got up on her feet again, the bluish light disappeared, and the 
normal gravitation field was restored. 

“With careful and hesitating footsteps, Anastasia went 
over to a little branch lying in the glade and was able to pick it 



The anomaly 


i75 


up. We realised she had started cleaning up the glade, as her 
mother had done many times. This wee little girl then carried 
the dry branch to the edge of the glade. But once again she 
lost her balance, began to fall and dropped the branch. 

“During her fall, once more the bluish glow sparked into 
life, changing the Earth’s gravitational field, and the branch 
flew over to the little pile of dry branches lying at the edge of 
the glade. 

‘Anastasia got up, looked around for the branch but couldn’t 
find it. Then, throwing up her little hands, with shaky steps 
she slowly made her way over to another branch. No sooner 
had she started bending over to pick it up than the branch 
itself began rising from the ground, as though a breeze had 
blown it to the edge of the glade. But there wasn’t enough of a 
wind around to do this. Some invisible presence was carrying 
out little Anastasia’s desires. 

“But she wanted to do everything herself, as her Mama had 
done. And, no doubt in protest against this help from her 
invisible ally, she thrust her little hand into the air and waved 
it gently above her head. 

“We looked up and saw it. Over the meadow we saw hang- 
ing a small spherical mass, pulsating and glowing with a pale- 
blue light. We could see a whole multitude of fiery discharges 
inside its transparent covering, giving the effect of multi-col- 
oured lightning. Indeed, it was very similar to large ball-light- 
ning. But it was intelligent! 

“We couldn’t tell what it was made of and what kind of in- 
telligence we were dealing with. 

“We could feel some kind of unknown and unseen power 
in it. But there was no sense of fear of this power. On the 
contrary, it seemed to be radiating a pleasant, languid grace. 
We didn’t feel like moving. We just felt like being.” 

“But what made you think it possessed untold power?” I 
interrupted. 



176 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


“My Papa noticed that. Even though it was a bright sun- 
ny day, the leaves on the trees and the petals on the flowers 
turned in its direction. In its bluish glow there was more 
power than in the Sun’s rays. And it could change the Earth’s 
gravitational field at the moment Anastasia fell — just in the 
right place and at just the right time. The change was so pre- 
cise that her body descended smoothly, but yet was not torn 
away from the Earth. 

‘Anastasia spent a long time collecting branches. Some- 
times she would crawl, at other times walk all over the mead- 
ow with slow steps, until she had cleared them all away. And 
the fiery sphere, still pulsating, hovered over the wee little 
one. But it no longer helped her pick up the branches. The 
powerful fiery sphere seemed to understand the gesture of 
her little hand and obeyed it. 

“Expanding and dissolving in Space, contracting and pro- 
ducing internal discharges (like flashbulbs) of some kind of 
energy from goodness-knows-where, the sphere would mo- 
mentarily disappear and then reappear, as though it were 
somehow excited, and this excitement caused it to sweep 
through space at incredible speed. 

“The time came when Anastasia normally lay down to 
sleep. We never compel our children to sleep, rocking them 
back and forth until they become dizzy. At this time Anasta- 
sia’s mother would simply lie down herself in the usual spot 
and pretend to doze off, to show her child by example. Lit- 
tle Anastasia would crawl over to her, snuggle up against her 
warm body and peacefully fall asleep. 

‘And this time Anastasia went to the spot where she was 
used to sleeping during the day with her mother. She stood 
and looked at the place where she had always slept with her 
Mama at this time, but now there was no Mama around. 

“It was not clear just what she was thinking at that mo- 
ment, only once again a tiny tear glistened in a sunbeam on 



The anomaly 


*77 


Anastasia’s face. And right away the bluish glow came pulsat- 
ing across the glade, flashing at irregular intervals. 

‘Anastasia raised her little head, saw the pulsating mass of 
light, sat down on the grass and began staring at it continu- 
ously. It remained still under her gaze. For some time she just 
sat there staring like that. Then she held out both her little 
arms in its direction, as she was wont to do when summon- 
ing one of the creatures to her side. At that point the fiery 
sphere sparked up in a multitude of powerful lightning bolts, 
reaching out beyond its blue covering, and... made a dash for 
her little arms like a fiery comet. Looking as though it had 
the ability to sweep away everything in its path, it took only a 
split second to reach Anastasia’s face, start rotating and with 
one of its lightning flashes wipe away a tiny tear glistening on 
her cheek. And at this point it extinguished all the discharges 
and became a pale blue, faintly glowing sphere in the arms of 
the little one sitting on the grass. 

“For a time Anastasia sat there holding it, examining it and 
stroking it with her hands. Then she got up, lifted up the blue 
sphere, and with careful steps carried it over and put it down 
on the place she used to sleep with her mother. And again she 
caressed it gently 

“The sphere took up a position on the ground and pretend- 
ed to doze off, just as Anastasia’s mother had done. And the 
little girl lay down beside it. She fell asleep. She slept there 
on the grass, all curled up into a ball. The sphere took flight, 
disappearing into the heavenly heights, then spread itself low 
over the glade, as though it were a blanket. Later, once more 
contracting into a small, pulsating ball, it took up a position 
next to Anastasia, who was still sleeping on the grass, and be- 
gan stroking her hair. It was a strange and unusual caressing. 
With the most delicate luminescent and flickering threads of 
lightning, it took each individual strand of hair, lifted it and 
caressed it. 



178 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

“On subsequent visits to Anastasia in her glade, we saw it 
again on several occasions. We realised that to Anastasia it 
was something quite natural, just like the Sun, or the Moon, 
or the trees and animals around her. And she had conversa- 
tions with it, just as she did with everything else around her. 
But it was evident she made a distinction between it and the 
other things in her environment. The distinction wasn’t too 
noticeable in terms of outward expression, but there was a 
definite impression that she treated it with just a little more 
respect than other things, and sometimes she would even play 
up to it. She never played up to anyone else, but for some rea- 
son she allowed herself to behave this way with the sphere. It 
reacted to her mood and even played along.” 

“The morning Anastasia turned four,” Grandfather contin- 
ued, “we were standing at the edge of the glade waiting for 
her to wake up. We wanted to quietly watch and see how she 
would delight in the new spring day that was unfolding. 

“The sphere appeared just a moment before she woke up. 
It glistened faintly with its bluish glow, either spreading itself 
in a shower of light or dissolving over the whole Space of the 
glade. And we beheld a natural living picture made by no hu- 
man hand — it was charming and magnificent. 

“The whole glade was transformed — the surrounding 
trees, the grass, even the bugs. The needles of the cedars 
began shining in a host of soft hues. Behind the squirrels 
springing from branch to branch could be seen rainbow- 
trails sparkling and dissolving. The grass was lit up in a soft 
green glow. An even more pronounced multicoloured glow 
emanated from the multitude of bugs scurrying through the 
grass, forming an unusually vivid and beautiful carpet spread- 
ing its way across the glade, constantly morphing itself into 
new intricate and marvellous patterns. Upon awakening, 
Anastasia opened her eyes to behold an extraordinary living 



The anomaly 179 

panorama, full of enchantment. She jumped up and gazed 
all ’round. 

“She smiled, as she always did in the morning, and every- 
thing around her responded to her smile with an even brighter 
glow and accelerated movement. Then Anastasia carefully 
knelt down and began meticulously examining the grass and 
the shining, multicoloured bugs scurrying about. When she 
lifted up her head, the slightly worried expression on her face 
betrayed a measure of concentration. She looked up and, even 
though nothing was visible up there, stretched her little arms 
to the sky. All at once the still air stirred, and in her hands ap- 
peared the bluish sphere. She held it up to her face, then put 
it down on the grass and tenderly stroked it. And we could 
hear their conversation. Anastasia was the only one who actu- 
ally spoke, but we had the distinct impression that the sphere 
was understanding her and even silently responding. Anasta- 
sia spoke with it tenderly, with just a touch of sadness: 

‘“You are good. You are very good. You wanted to delight 
me with your beauty. Thank you. But change it back, please 
change it back to the way it was before. And do not ever 
change it again.’ 

“The blue sphere emitted another pulse, then lifted slight- 
ly off the ground, and the lightning discharges flashed from 
within. But the glowing scene did not fade. Anastasia fixed 
her gaze upon it and spoke to it once again: 

‘“Every little beetle, bug and ant has its Mama. Everyone 
has a Mama. All Mamas love their children just the way they 
were born. It does not matter how many legs they have or 
what colour they are. You have changed everything. How 
will the Mamas recognise their children now? Please, make 
everything as it was before!’ 

“The sphere gave a faint flash, and everything in the glade 
was restored to the way it looked before. Once again it de- 
scended to Anastasia’s feet. She stroked it and offered a 



180 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

‘Thank you!’. She stared silently at the sphere for a while, and 
when she spoke to it again, her words really impressed ns. She 
told it: 

‘“Do not come to see me again. I like being with you. You 
are always trying to do only what is good for everyone, always 
trying to help. But do not come visit me. I know you have a 
very large glade of your own. But you think very fast, so fast 
that I cannot understand all at once. Only later shall I un- 
derstand a bit. You move faster than everything else. Much 
faster than the birds and the breeze. You do everything very 
fast and very well, and I know that is how you must do it to 
get everything done, to do good in your own very large glade. 
But when you are with me, it means you are not there. So, 
when you are with me, there is no one to do good in the other 
glade. Go away. You need to take care of the large glade.’ 

“The blue sphere contracted into a little lump, and took 
off way up high. It began sweeping through Space, sparkling 
more brightly than usual, and once more plunged down like 
a fiery comet to Anastasia, who was still sitting in the same 
spot. It stayed still by her head for a while, then a multitude 
of tiny flickering rays reached out to Anastasia’s long hair and 
stroked each strand individually, right down to the tip. 

“‘What are you talcing your time for?’ Anastasia said qui- 
etly ‘You should get going back to those who are waiting for 
you. I’ll make everything all right here myself. And I will be 
happy to know that everything is all right in the large glade 
too. I shall be able to feel you. And I want you to think of me 
too, but just occasionally’ 

“The blue sphere began ascending, but not with its usual 
carefree bounce. It rose from Anastasia in fitful bursts, and 
finally disappeared into space. But it left something invisible 
all around. And each time when something happened that af- 
fected Anastasia negatively, the surrounding space would grow 
still, as though paralysed. That is why you lost consciousness 



The anomaly 


181 


when you tried to touch her without her consent. She paci- 
fies this phenomenon by waving her hands in the air when- 
ever she can. Just as before, she wants to do everything all by 
herself. 

“We asked our little Anastasia: 

‘“What was that glowing thing that was hovering over the 
glade, what do you call it?’ 

“She thought for a bit, and answered briefly: 

‘“I would call it Good, Granpakins.’” 

The oldster fell silent. But I still wanted to hear about how 
little Anastasia lived in the forest, and I asked him: 

“What did she do after that, how did she live?” 

“The same way,” the old fellow replied. “She grew up just 
like anyone else. We suggested she help the dachniks. By 
the time she was six she was already able to see people at a 
distance, to discern their feelings and help them. She got 
involved with the dachniks. Now she believes that the phe- 
nomenon of the dachniks offers an easy transition to making 
sense of what constitutes our earthly existence. Here she’s 
been continually shining that ray of hers for twenty years now. 
She’s given warmth to plants on the small plots of land. She’s 
treated people’s illnesses. She’s tried to explain to people, 
without imposing on them, how one should handle plants, 
and she’s had terrific results. Then she started observing oth- 
er aspects of human life. And destiny brought her together 
with you. And now she’s come out with the idea of carrying 
people through the dark forces’ window of time.” 

‘And what do you think, she’ll be successful?” I asked. 

“Vladimir, Anastasia knows the power of thought inherent 
in Man as a Creator. Otherwise she would never have let her- 
self make such a statement. From now on she will not deviate 
from this path — she’ll stick to it. She’s a stubborn lass. It 
comes from her father.” 



182 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

“So, she’s taking concrete steps,” I observed. “She’s trying 
to make her thought-forms into reality, and here we are just 
sitting and rationalising about the spiritual. Like kids wip- 
ing their noses... You know, there’s quite a few people that 
still ask me: ‘Does Anastasia really exist, or did I just dream 
everything up myself?”’ 

“That’s not a question people can actually ask. People 
touched by the book will feel her right away. She is in the 
book. Questions like that can only be asked by illusory peo- 
ple, not real people.” 



Chapter Twenty-Eight 



i 




“But I’m talking about very real people — like those two girls 
over there, for instance. D’you see?” I pointed in the direc- 
tion of two teen-age girls standing about five or six metres 
away from our bench. 

The old man fixed his gaze upon them and said: 

“I think one of them — the one that’s smoking — is unreal.” 

“What d’you mean, unreal? If I went up to her and gave her 
behind a good slap, you’d hear a scream and curses that’d be 
more than real!” 

“You know, Vladimir, what you are now seeing is simply an 
image before your eyes. An image created by the dogmas of 
the technocratic world. Look closely. The girl has on very 
uncomfortable high-heeled shoes. Besides, they’re a little too 
tight for her. She wears them precisely because someone else 
is dictating what shoes women should be wearing these days. 

‘And she’s wearing a short skirt of material made to look 
like leather but it isn’t leather. It’s harmful for the body, but 
she’s wearing it according to the dictates of society’s current 
fad. Look at all her gaudy make-up and how arrogantly she’s 
behaving. Outwardly she’s independent. But only outwardly 
Her whole appearance is at odds with herself, her real self. 
She’s been ‘smitten’ by an image of someone else’s thought- 
forms, a soulless, illusory image has eclipsed her living soul 
and taken it captive.” 

“You can say what you like about the soul, captivity and the 
dictates of some image or other,” I interjected. “But how can 
one tell whether that’s actually true or not?” 



184 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

“I’m already an old man, you see. I can’t get in tune with 
the slower pace of your thinking. I can’t express myself con- 
vincingly, the way Anastasia does.” The oldster sighed and 
added: “Do you mind if I try showing you?” 

“Showing me what?” 

“I shall now attempt to destroy, at least for a time, that illu- 
sory, lifeless image and free the girl’s soul. You watch closely.” 

“Go ahead.” 

The girl holding the cigarette was in the midst of arrogantly 
berating her companion. The old fellow watched them close- 
ly and intently. And when the girl turned her glance away and 
fixed it on some of the passers-by, the oldster’s eyes followed 
her gaze. Then he got up and, gesturing to me to follow him, 
headed toward the girls. I went after him. He stopped about 
a half metre from them and fixed his eyes on the girl with the 
cigarette. She turned her head to look at him, blew a puff of 
cigarette smoke in his face and said with some irritation: 

“Hey, what’s with you, Gramps? Begging for money, eh?” 

The oldster paused, probably to recover from the cloud of 
smoke enveloping his face, and said in a soft and tender tone: 

“Put the cigarette, dear girl, into your right hand. You 
should try holding it in your right hand.” 

And the girl obediently put the cigarette into her right 
hand. But there was much more to it than that. Her face 
suddenly became completely altered. Her arrogance had van- 
ished. In fact everything about her was different: her face, 
the way she stood. And in a completely different tone of 
voice she said: 

“I’ll try, Grandfather.” 

“You should have your child, dear girl.” 

“It’ll be hard for me. I’m all alone.” 

“Let him come to you. You go and think about that hand 
of yours, think about your child, and he will come. Go along 
now, dear girl, you must hurry” 



Illusory people 


185 


“I’ll go.” The girl took a few steps, then stopped and called 
back to her companion in a calm, quiet voice, with no sign of 
her former irritation: “Come along, Tanya... come with me.” 

They left. 

“Wow! Can you tame any woman like that?” I said, when 
we had regained our seat on the bench again. “That’s terrific! 
Some sort of super-hypnosis, eh? Far out!” 

“It’s not hypnosis, Vladimir. And there’s no far-out mysti- 
cism here. It’s simply an attentive attitude to one’s fellow- 
Man. And I mean to the Alan, not to the dreamt-up image 
which obscures the real Alan. And Alan responds instantly to 
this, he finds his strength, when you appeal directly to him, 
ignoring the illusory image.” 

“But how did you manage to see the invisible Man behind 
the visible image?” 

“It’s all very simple, really. I watched them a bit. The girl 
was holding her cigarette in her left hand. She was also rum- 
maging about in her purse with her left hand. Which means 
she’s left-handed. And if a small child holds a spoon or does 
something else with the left hand, his parents try to get him 
to use his right. She got along fine with her parents. I realised 
this when I saw the way she looked at the man and woman 
walking along with a little girl in tow. I spoke to her the way 
her parents might have when she was little. I tried to use the 
same tone of voice her parents might have used. Back when 
she was little, unaffected, not under someone else’s image. 
That little girl was the real Man, and it responded right off.” 

“But you were talking to her about childbirth — what was 
that all about?” 

“She’s pregnant, you see. She’s been pregnant more than a 
month now. That alien image doesn’t want the child. But the 
girl’s inner being wants the child very much. They’re strug- 
gling with each other. Now her inner being will win out! 



Chapter Twenty-Nine 



‘Anastasia told me, when I talked with her in the taiga,” I recalled, 
“that nobody can see God because His thoughts work with great 
speed and concentration. But I’m thinking, why doesn’t He slow 
them down so people can get a good look at Him?” 

The old man raised his walking-stick and pointed it at a 
passing cyclist. 

“Look there, Vladimir. Look how the bicycle wheels turn. 
The wheel has spokes, but you can’t see them. They are there, 
and you know it, but the speed of rotation does not allow you 
to see them. Or put it another way: the pace of your thinking 
and your visual perception does not allow you to see them. If 
the cyclist goes slower, you will see the spokes of the wheel, 
albeit blurred. If he stops altogether, you will see them clearly, 
but the cyclist himself will fall off. He won’t get to his desti- 
nation because of his stopping, and for what? Just to let you 
see that the spokes are there? But where does that take you? 
Has anything changed in you? Or around you? 

“The only thing you’ll know for certain is: the spokes exist. 
And that’s it. The cyclist, of course, can always get up and 
continue his journey, but others may want to see, which means 
he’ll have to stop and fall again and again. And for what?” 

“Well, so I can get a good look at him just once.” 

“And what will you see? After all, a cyclist lying on the 
ground isn’t a cyclist any more. You will have to imagine what 
he looked like. 

“Just so, a God who changes the pace of His thinking is 
no longer God. Wouldn’t it be better for you to learn how 



Why nobody can see God 


187 

to accelerate your own thinking? Imagine yourself talking 
with someone who has a slow time getting what you’re say- 
ing — doesn’t that irritate you? Isn’t it a pain slowing down 
your own pace of thought to his level?” 

“kou’re right, if you adapt yourself to a fool’s pace, you 
might become a fool yourself.” 

“So in order for us to see God, He would have to slow down 
His own thinking to our pace, and become as one of us. But 
when He does this, sending us His sons, the crowd looks at 
them and says: ‘You aren’t God, you’re not even the son of 
God, just a pretender. Perform a miracle or we’ll nail you to 
a cross.’” 

“But why shouldn’t God’s son perform a miracle?” I ques- 
tioned. ‘At least so the non-believers would back off, and not 
crucify him.” 

“Miracles do not convince non-believers, they only tempt 
them,” came the reply. ‘And those who perform miracles are 
burnt at the stake under cries of ‘Burn the manifestation of 
the dark forces!’ Besides, just look around you. God’s mira- 
cles abound in countless numbers. The Sun rises every day, 
and then there’s the Moon at night. An insect on a blade of 
grass is a miracle, after all, not to mention a tree... 

“Here we are, the two of us, sitting under a tree. Who 
could think up a more perfect mechanism than a tree like 
this? These are particles of His thought. All the material- 
ised, living forms scurrying beneath our feet, living above 
our heads in the ethereal blue, singing for us, caressing our 
bodies with a ray of warmth — these are all His, they are all 
around us, made for us. But are there that many people who 
are able not only to see, but to feel and realise the significance 
of all this? Maybe not even to improve, but simply to use and 
keep from distorting or destroying these living marvels of 
creation? As for His sons, they have one purpose — to raise 
people’s conscious awareness by their words, slowing down 



i88 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


their own thinking, even at the risk of being misunderstood 
themselves.” 

“But Anastasia emphasised that just speaking words was 
not enough to raise Man’s conscious awareness to a meaning- 
ful level. I too think that mankind has uttered an enormous 
number of different words, but what do they mean? The 
Earth all around is full of unhappy lives, and it may even suf- 
fer a global disaster.” 

“Quite right. When the words do not come from the heart, 
when the threads linking them to the soul are torn apart, then 
the words are empty, imageless, faceless. Our granddaugh- 
ter Nastenka 1 is capable of creating images not just in every 
word, but in the sound of every letter of the alphabet. Now 
the Earth-dwelling teachers, His sons that are in the flesh to- 
day, will attain such a degree of power that the human spirit 
will outshine the darkness.” 

“Sons, teachers? What have they got to do with it? Aren’t 
the abilities hers alone?” 

“She will share them, in fact she is already sharing them. 
Look here, you’ve even been able to write a book, readers 
have flooded the world with poems, and new songs have been 
sung. Have you heard the new songs?” 

“Yes, 1 have.” 

“So this will be multiplied many times with your religious 
teachers, just as soon as they come into contact with the book. 
And where you see simply words, they will feel the living im- 
ages, and the power will be magnified multifold in them.” 

“They will feel it, but what about me? What am I, com- 
pletely devoid of feeling? If so, why did she talk with me and 
not with them?” 

“Because you are incapable of distorting what you hear, 
and there is nothing you have of your own already that you 


1 Nastenka (pronounced NAH-sten-ka ) — a diminutive form of Anastasia. 



Why nobody can see God 


189 


can mix with it. On a clean sheet of paper the word is set 
forth more clearly. But not to worry, your thought will accel- 
erate too.” 

“Okay, let it accelerate in me too, so I don’t lag behind the 
others. I guess everything you say must be right. Here in 
Russia there’s the leader of one religious community — the 
community settlers refer to him as their teacher — who told 
his followers to read the book about Anastasia. ‘It will set 
your hearts on fire,’ he told them. And many of his followers 
went out and bought the book.” 

“So, that means he understood, he felt something, and that 
is why he helped Anastasia and you. And did you ever thank 
him for his help?” 

“I’ve never met him.” 

“You can say ‘thank you’ in your heart.” 

“Silently, you mean? Who’s going to hear that?” 

“The one who listens with his heart will hear it.” 

“There’s another element here. He said the book was re- 
ally good, Anastasia too, but he went on to say that I wasn’t a 
real man, that I wasn’t a true male of the species. Anastasia 
didn’t meet with a real man,’ he said. I saw this myself on TV, 
and then read it in the papers.” 

‘And what would you say you were — Mr Perfection?” 

“Well, ‘perfection’, I admit, is stretching it.” 

“Then you need not be offended. You can work toward be- 
ing perfect. My granddaughter will help you. Those whom 
Love is capable of uplifting can rise to the heights. It’s not even 
meant for everyone to grasp the whys and the wherefores. An 
extraordinary speed of thinking is required for that.” 

“What about yoz/r thought? What speed does it operate at? 
You don’t find it tiresome talking with me?” 

“The thinking speed of anyone who leads a lifestyle such 
as ours is always significantly greater than that of people in 
the technocratic world. Our thought is not encumbered by 



190 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

constant concerns about clothing, food and a lot of other 
things like that. But I don’t find it tiresome talking with you, 
thanks to my Love for my granddaughter. She wanted me to 
talk with you. And I am glad to do something for her.” 

‘And what is the pace of Anastasia’s thinking? The same as 
yours and your father’s?” 

‘Anastasia’s is greater.” 

“By how much? By what ratio? What she can process in 
ten minutes, let’s say, how long would that take you?” 

“To make sense of what she can process in a second, we would 
require several months. That is why she sometimes seems to 
us illogical. That is why she is utterly alone. That is why we 
can’t be of any significant help to her — why we can’t grasp 
right off the logic behind her actions. My father has com- 
pletely given up conversation altogether. He keeps trying to 
match her pace of thinking so he can help her. He wants me 
to do the same. But I don’t even try My father thinks that’s 
because I’m lazy But I love my granddaughter very much and 
simply trust that she is doing everything correctly And if she 
asks me to do something, I’m delighted to do it. That’s why I 
came to see you.” 

“But how then did Anastasia manage to talk with me for 
three whole days?” 

“We wondered how, too — for a long time. After all, con- 
stantly making that kind of an adjustment could drive one 
crazy It was just recently that we discovered the answer. You 
see, when she was talking with you, she did not slow her think- 
ing down. On the contrary, she made it work even faster. She 
accelerated it and transformed it into images. Now, like your 
computer programmes, these images will play themselves out 
for you and for anyone who reads the book. They will expand 
and accelerate the pace of human thinking by leaps and bounds, 
bringing it closer to God. When we realised that, we conclud- 
ed that in thinking up such a thing, she had created a new law 



Why nobody can see God 


191 

in the Universe. But now it’s clear that she was simply using 
the opportunity afforded by pure and sincere Love, which we 
hadn’t known about before. Love, after all, has remained one 
of the Creator’s grand mysteries. And look how she has now 
opened up one of its great opportunities and powers.” 

‘And does the pace of her thinking allow her • to see God?” 

“Hardly After all, she lives in the flesh too. God is in the 
flesh as well, but only partly And His flesh is all the people of 
the Earth. As one small particle of this flesh, Anastasia occa- 
sionally grasps something. It is possible that when her thinking 
reaches such incredible speeds, she feels Him more than others 
do, but this happens with her only for short periods of time.” 

‘And what does it give her?” 

“In a matter of a second she is able to comprehend the truths, 
the essence of being, the conscious awareness that the wisest 
people of your world have spent a lifetime perfecting and shar- 
ing with each other.” 

“And that means she has the knowledge of our Oriental la- 
mas, the wisdom of Buddha and Christ, and knows yoga too?” 

“That she does. She knows more than is said in all the trea- 
tises passed down to your world today. But she still considers 
them to be insufficient, since there is no universal harmony 
among those living on the Earth today, and the march toward 
global disaster continues. 

“This is why she is working out her incredible ‘combina- 
tions’. She is saying: ‘Enough of teaching people dogmas, 
enough of tempting them with Adam and Eve’s apple. They 
must be enabled to feel — really feel — what Alan once felt, 
what he was capable of and who he was.’” 

“So,” I said, “what you’re trying to tell me is that she has a 
real possibility of doing something good for all mankind? If 
that’s so, then when will it begin — this ‘good’?” 

“It has already begun. Just little sprouts so far, but that it is 
only for the time being.” 



192 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

“Where are they? How do I see them? Or feel them?” 

‘Ask the people who read the book — the ‘sprouts’ are in 
them. Indeed, the book is awakening bright feelings in many 
people. That’s something that can no longer be denied — 
many will attest to it. She’s succeeded with those combina- 
tions of hers. Incredible, but she’s done it. 

‘And you, Vladimir, think about who you were and who 
you’ve become. What has been happening, Vladimir, is that a 
programme of thought-images has been unfolding in you, and 
her soul has been unfolding in people’s consciousness. The 
world is starting to change in you, and by doing so is chang- 
ing the thought-images all around you. We cannot fathom 
completely how she manages to do that. What is evidently 
real on the surface is something we can still manage to deci- 
pher. What helps her to bring about this new reality remains 
a mystery. 

“Naturally one can make vigorous efforts to delve into it, 
but we should be wary of taking away from the marvellous 
reality that is unfolding before our eyes. A breathtaking dawn 
of a new day is something to be admired. Once you begin 
analysing the whys and wherefores, instead of elation all you 
get is excavation, which doesn’t lead to anything and doesn’t 
change anything.” 

“Golly I didn’t realise it was so far out, so complex! I was 
still hoping that Anastasia was just a simple recluse, only ex- 
traordinarily kind, beautiful and a little naive.” 

“You see what I mean, you mustn’t go digging around and 
knocking your brains out. If it’s all too complex, then let her 
remain for you a kind and beautiful recluse, since that’s the 
image you have of her. Others will see something different. 
You’ve been given what you’ve been given. That’s all your 
consciousness has room for at the moment, and that is per- 
fectly well and good. Just try to admire the dawn, if you can. 
That’s the most important thing of all.” 



Chapter Thirty 



“The dawn will begin in Russia,” I observed, “when everyone 
will be better off financially. When the economy as a whole 
improves, and individuals see a rise in their incomes.” 

‘All the material things you see around you depend on 
Man’s spirit and conscious awareness,” Anastasia’s grandfa- 
ther responded. 

“Okay, maybe. But what’s the point in erudite philoso- 
phies, if people can’t afford to feed or clothe themselves?” 

“They need to think about why that has been happening. 
Each one needs to figure it out for themselves. And stop try- 
ing to find a scapegoat. Only by changing themselves within will 
they change anything around them, including their financial 
situation. I agree with you that people will not be able to ac- 
cept this all at once. But Anastasia said, after all: ‘You have to 
do without moral preaching. You have to show people how, 
that’s all.’ And she showed how 

“Now it’s up to you to carry out what she outlined. Then, 
within the space of three years, many communities through- 
out Siberia — large, small, forgotten and neglected, where 
there are only old people still living whose children don’t even 
come for a visit, will become richer, many times richer. Their 
life will bloom abundantly, and many children will return. 

‘And she will have much more than that to offer. She will 
reveal many secrets, she will restore people’s abilities and the 
knowledge inherent in our pristine origins. Russia will be 
a most wealthy land. And she will do this to prove that the 
spirituality and knowledge inherent in our pristine origins are 



194 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


more significant than the futile efforts of technocracy. Russia 
will herald a new dawn over the whole Earth.” 

‘And what do / have to do to bring it about?” 

“You can start by revealing the first secret related to you by 
Anastasia. You should write in your book how to produce heal- 
ing oil from the cedar nut. And don’t hold anything back.” 

I suddenly felt everything boiling up inside me. The wind 
was literally knocked out of me. I couldn’t sit, and jumped to 
my feet. 

“Why? Tell me why! Why should I suddenly turn around 
and do that? For everybody For free. Any sane person would 
think I was an idiot... 

“I set up an expedition, and I put into it everything I had. 
Now my firm’s been ruined. Anastasia asked me to write a 
book, and I wrote it. And now we re even. Your aspirations, 
your philosophy — that’s not something I can readily com- 
prehend. All I did was put it down on paper, as I promised 
Anastasia I would... 

“But the oil — well, that’s something that’s completely 
clear to me. I know now how much I can get for it. And 
I’ll never share the technology with anybody I’ll scrape to- 
gether a little money from selling the books and then I’ll start 
producing it myself. I’ve got to put everything back together 
again. I’ve got to get my ship back, the company too. I need 
to buy a laptop so I can keyboard the next book... 

“I don’t have a home any more. No place to live. I want 
to buy a trailer home. And when I’m rich, I want to erect a 
monument to Russian officers — the ones physically alive but 
with mortally wounded hearts. Our indifference keeps tear- 
ing their hearts apart, and their honour and conscience have 
been spat on by people — the same people officers in all ages 
have gone into battle to defend... 

“While you people sit nice and quiet there in the forest, 
here people are perishing. The country all around is full of 



Dawn in Russia 


195 


various ‘preachers’. They all just talk about spiritual matters, 
but don’t really feel like doing anything. At least I’m going 
to do something. But here you’re telling me I should give 
valuable know-how away just like that! To everyone! Not on 
your life!” 

“Anastasia did determine a percen tage for you too,” Grand- 
father interjected. “I know — three percent from the sale of 
the oil.” 

“Sure, what’s a miserable three percent to me, when I can 
get three hundred for the oil?! I know what the world prices 
are now. And as for its healing properties, what they’re sell- 
ing out there is considerably less effective. I did some check- 
ing. They don’t know how to produce it properly Now I’m 
the only one who knows how to do it. Everything she said 
checked out. There’s nothing in the world that can compare 
with its healing impact. Besides, scientific studies confirm it. 
Pallas 1 said that it could even restore a person’s youth. And 
you want me to go give it away just like that. 

“You must take me for a fool. I’ve looked through so much 
literature, even sent people into the archives to confirm what 
she said. And they did. A lot of money went to that too.” 

“You checked into everything — which means you couldn’t 
bring yourself to trust Anastasia right off. That lack of trust 
is what cost you the time and money.” 

“Yes, I did do the checking. I had to, you see. But now I’m 
not going to be a sucker any more. You talk about a ‘dawn for 
everyone’. Come on now — ■ ‘dawn’? In that dawn of yours I’d 
still be a sucker. I wrote a book. I did everything just the way 
she asked me to. I remember her telling me: ‘Don’t hide any- 
thing, either the bad or the good. Humble your pride. Don’t 


1 Pallas — a reference to Peter Simon Pallas (1741-1811), a member of the 
St. Petersburg Academy of Sciences and a prominent pioneer explorer of 
the Siberian taiga. 



196 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


be afraid to look ridiculous, don’t be afraid to be misunder- 
stood.’ I haven’t hid anything. And what’s come of it? 

“The book makes me look like a complete idiot. People 
stand there and say that to my face. That I haven’t got a spir- 
itual ounce in my body, that there’s a lot I still don’t under- 
stand. They say I’m coarse and uncivilised. And even a thir- 
teen-year-old girl from Kolomna 2 wrote me to say I’ve been 
doing things the wrong way And a woman from Perm 3 came 
to see me, right to my doorstep, and said: T wanted to see 
what Anastasia saw in him.’ 

‘“Don’t hide anything, either the good or the bad. Humble 
your pride. Don’t be afraid to look ridiculous, don’t be afraid 
to be misunderstood.’ She knew everything, didn’t she? She 
comes out pretty good in the book — that’s what people say — 
and how do I look? It’s all her fault. If it weren’t for the child, I 
could easily slap her one for what she did. Just think! I wrote 
everything down in good faith, just as she asked me to. And 
for that people tell me I’m insensitive and a coward to boot. 

“Of course I’m a complete idiot. I’ve made myself into 
one. I obeyed her. I’ve written all that about myself, and now 
I’ll never live it down the rest of my days. And after I’m gone 
they’ll still make fun of me. The book’s got a life of its own, 
as it’s turned out. It’ll outlive me! And even if I stop print- 
ing it, what difference will it make? The underground press is 
already grinding out more copies. They’re trying to run it off 
on photocopy machines.” 

All at once I stopped short and looked at the old man. A 
little tear could be seen slowly making its way down his cheek. 


'girl from Kolomna — The reference is to a young girl also named Anasta- 
sia, whose letter to Vladimir Megre is reproduced in Book i, Chapter 30: 
“Author’s message to readers”. 

: Perm — a major city of over a million inhabitants 1,500 km east of Mos- 


cow. 



Dawn in Russia 


197 


I sat down beside him. He was still silently looking at the 
ground. Then he spoke. 

“You see, Vladimir, my granddaughter Nastenka is capa- 
ble of foreseeing a lot. It’s not that she wanted anything for 
herself. She didn’t want fame, didn’t want money By taking 
part of the fame upon herself, she put herself in danger, but 
she saved you. And the fact that you come out the way you 
do in the book — well, that’s her doing. You’re right about 
that. But that was not to humiliate you — that’s how she was 
able to save you. By taking upon herself a whole mass of dark 
forces. All by herself. And you respond to her with the pain 
of misunderstanding and irritation. Think — is it easy for a 
woman who creates out of love to hold on like that?” 

“What kind of a love is it,” I countered, “when her beloved 
is counted among fools?” 

“Calling somebody a fool doesn’t make him one. A fool is 
one who mistakes flattering words for the truth. Think for a 
moment of how you would like to be seen by others. As a fig- 
ure exalted above all? As a brilliant intellect? And you could 
have made yourself a reputation like that with your first book. 
But then... pride and selfishness would have destroyed you. 

“There are not even that many enlightened people who 
could hold out against sins like those. Pride creates an un- 
natural image of Man, it obscures the living soul. That is why 
the philosophers of the past and the geniuses of today can 
create so precious little. Because even after the first stroke of 
their pen they are so overwhelmed by a sense of self-conceit 
they lose right off what was given to them in the beginning. 

“But Nastenka was smart enough to set up a protective 
barrier against flattery and worship which lead to pride. They 
won’t touch you now. She is saving you from a multitude of 
ills. And is protecting both your spirit and your flesh. You 
will write nine books straight from your heart. The Earth will 
be radiant with its Space of Love. And then, once you have 



198 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

dotted the final i in the ninth book, you will be able to under- 
stand who you are.” 

“Come on! Isn’t it possible to tell who I am right now?” 

“Who you are right now — that’s pretty obvious. You are 
who you are at the moment. You are who you feel yourself 
to be. Whoever you will become, only Anastasia, possibly, 
knows. And she will wait, living each moment by Love. The 
fact that people sitting in their comfortable apartments call 
you a coward — that’s nothing. You should take it with a 
grain of salt. And suggest they try heading off into the taiga 
for three days with no gear. Let them try sleeping with a bear 
in a cave. To get the full sensation, let them take a mentally 
deranged girl along — after all, wasn’t that how Anastasia 
seemed to you at first?” 

“More or less.” 

“Let any man who accuses you try sleeping with his mental- 
ly deranged companion. Out there in the backwoods, where 
they can hear the wolves howling. Could he really do that? 
What do you think?” the old fellow asked slyly. 

And no sooner had I pictured to myself the scenario he de- 
scribed than I burst out in a hearty laugh. And the two of us 
had a good laugh together. Then I asked him: 

“Can Anastasia hear what we’ve been saying?” 

“She will learn about all your deeds.” 

“Then tell her not to worry I shall explain to everyone how 
to extract healing oil from cedar nuts.” 

“Fine, I’ll tell her,” the old man promised. “But do you re- 
member everything Anastasia told you about the process?” 

“Yes, I think I do.” 

“Right, tell it to me.” 



Chapter Thirty-One 




It’s not that difficult a task. The modern technology involved 
is already familiar and it needs no setting forth here. But 
there are some rather unusual nuances I should point out. 

When gathering the cones 1 one should not beat against the 
cedars with logs or wooden bats, as the harvesters do today. 
This greatly weakens the healing properties of the oil. One 
should use only the cones which the cedar itself gives off. Ei- 
ther they fall with the wind, or you can knock them down with 
the resonance of your voice, as Anastasia does. They should 
be collected by people whose thought is free from evil. And 
it is especially good when the cones are picked up by children’s 
hands. In any case, all the steps which follow should be car- 
ried out with kind and bright thoughts. 

“Such people may be found in Siberian villages even now,” 
Anastasia affirmed. Whether this really makes a difference is 
difficult to tell. But it also says in the Bible that King Solo- 
mon sought out people “skilled in felling timber ”. 2 Only it 
doesn’t say how these people differed from anyone else in 
other respects. 

The nuts obtained after the shelling of the cones must have 
their oil extracted within a three-month period; after that the 


'cones — Note that the term cedar (Russian kedr) is used throughout the 
Ringing Cedars Series to refer to either the Siberian cedar (or Siberian pine, 
Pinus sibirica) — as in this case — or to the Lebanese cedar (cedar of Leba- 
non, Cedrtis libani). 

"I Kings 5: 6 ( New Internationa! Version). 



200 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


quality will significantly deteriorate. The kernel should not 
come into contact with any metal during the extraction proc- 
ess. In any case, the oil should never come into contact with 
metal. 

The oil can be used to treat any diseases without diagno- 
sis. It can also be used as a food product and added to salads. 
Or it can be taken one spoonful a day, preferably at sunrise, 
although the afternoon is also a good time. But definitely in 
daylight, not at night. That’s the main thing. 

“Only people may be offered a counterfeit,” I voiced my 
concern to the old fellow. But he responded slyly and with 
just a touch of humour: 

“Well, then, you and I will make a device to screen out 
counterfeits. And we’ll work out those commissions of yours 
at the same time.” 

“How do we do that?” 

“Have to think about it. You, after all, are the entrepre- 
neur.” 

“I was one, but right now I’m not sure who I am.” 

“Let’s think together, then. You correct me if something’s not 
right.” 

“Okay,” I agreed. 

“The final product should be tested with measuring instru- 
ments by competent technicians. Doctors, scientists — in a 
word, professionals.” 

“That’s right, they can issue certificates.” 

“But instruments can’t catch everything. A taste test will 
also be needed.” 

“Possibly Tasters determine the quality of wine, for exam- 
ple. There’s no substitute for that. But the wine-tasters are 
acutely aware of the taste of different vintages. They have a 
superb sense for both fragrance and taste. But who will be 
tasting the oil?” 

“7ou can check it.” 



How to produce healing cedar oil 


201 


‘And just how am I supposed to do that? I’ve only tasted 
the usual sort of oil. When we made it ourselves, we didn’t 
follow the technological procedures Anastasia recommend- 
ed. Besides, I’m a smoker.” 

“For three days before checking the oil quality, you should 
abstain from smoking and alcohol. And don’t eat meats or 
fats. And you shouldn’t talk with anyone for those three days. 
Then you can check it and determine from the taste whether 
it is good or an imitation.” 

‘And what do I compare it with?” 

“With this.” 

Whereupon the old fellow put his hand into his canvas bag 
and drew out a small hollow stick approximately two fingers 
in width. Another stick protruded from one end, like a cork. 

“This is genuine oil. Once you’ve tasted it, you won’t mis- 
take it for anything else. But first let me rid you of what has 
built up in you from smoking and other quirky habits.” 

“How are you going to get rid of it? The way Anastasia 
did?” 

“Yes, more or less. 

“But she said that only one who loves is capable of elimi- 
nating ailments in a loved one with the Ray of Love. And of 
warming his body, so that even his feet start perspiring.” 

“With the Ray of Love. Quite correct.” 

“But you cannot love me. Not the way she does.” 

“But I love my granddaughter. Let’s try it.” 

“Go ahead.” 

1 he oldster screwed up his eyes and began fixing an un- 
blinking gaze on me. I could feel a sense of warmth flow 
through my body. But quite a bit weaker than what I felt from 
Anastasia’s gaze. Nothing happened. But he still kept trying. 
To the point where his arms were trembling. I could feel a 
little more warming in my body, but only a little. Still, the 
old fellow didn’t give up, and I waited. And all at once my 



202 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


feet broke out into a sweat, after which a feeling of freshness 
permeated my head, along with fragrances. I could feel the 
fragrances in the air. 

‘Ah, we’ve succeeded,” he said, wearily leaning against the 
back of the bench. “Now give me your hand.” 

He opened the stick cork and from the hollow stick poured 
cedar oil onto the palm of my hand. I licked it off with my 
tongue. The warmth spread across my palate and through my 
mouth. And I suddenly caught a whiff of the cedar. And it 
was, indeed, hard to mistake for anything else. 

“Think you’ll remember it now?” asked Anastasia’s grand- 
father. 

“I’ll remember. What’s so hard about that? I ate potatoes 
once at the monastery. I remembered that for ages. Twenty- 
seven years later I still remembered the taste. Only how will 
people know that it has been checked? That it is genuine 
cedar nut oil? Right now it’s too expensive on the market. 
For just one gram of the raw oil, diluted with something, they 
charge thirty thousand roubles . 3 I saw it myself. It’s pack- 
aged as an import. With prices like that it’s all too tempting 
to sell fakes.” 

“You’re right — money’s the master of ceremonies at the 
moment. We’ll have to think of something.” 

“You see? A dead end.” 

“Anastasia said that this money can be turned to a good 
purpose,” Grandfather observed. “Let’s think of something 
along that line.” 

“They’ve been trying to work out for some time now, for 
example, how to guarantee the quality of vodka against imita- 
tions. But... They’ve changed the labels and corks, they’ve 
come up with excise labels, but all to no avail. There were 

3 thirty thousand roubles — approximately US$6 at the then current exchange 
rate. 



How to produce healing cedar oil 


203 


imitations on the market before, and there still are. What 
with photocopiers and all, any label can easily be copied.” 

“What about money, Vladimir — can it be copied too?” 

“Money — that’s more difficult to fake.” 

“So let’s stick money onto the back side of our bottles, 
like labels, so that these snivelling bits of paper can actually 
do some good for once.” 

“What d’you mean, stick money on bottles? What kind of 
nonsense is that?” 

“Give me a banknote, please. Any banknote.” 

I gave him a iooo-rouble note. 

“Well, then, it’s quite clear. You take the note and cut it in 
half. Stick one half on the box or something else. The other 
half you hide away in a file. You’ll think of a suitable place. 
Or put it in a safety deposit box at your bank. You see, on 
each half of the note there are identical numbers, and so any- 
one wanting to confirm the authenticity of the oil, can simply 
verify the number.” 

Well, Gramps, I thought to myself, you’ve got a good head 
on your shoulders. And out loud I said: 

“There’s no better defence against imitations. Way to go!” 

He laughed. Still laughing, he added: 

“So, give me a percentage, too. Come on, cough it up!” 

‘A percentage? What kind of a percentage? How much do 
you want?” 

“I want everything to be just right,” said the old fellow, 
all at once serious again. Then he added: “Besides the three 
percent, take an additional one percent — in kind, as oil al- 
ready packaged. And offer it for free to whoever you feel you 
should. Let that be a gift to people from you and me.” 

“Right, I’ll do it. You’ve really thought of everything to a T. 
Way to go!” 

“ToaT? That means Nastenka will be very happy for us. And 
my father still thinks I’m lazy So you think I’ve done a good job?” 



204 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

“Of course you have!” And we both had another good 
laugh. And I added: “Tell Anastasia I say you would make an 
excellent entrepreneur.” 

“You mean it?” 

“Certainly! You could become one of those ‘New Rus- 
sians ’ 4 — and a great one, too!” 

“I’ll tell her. And the fact that you’re telling everyone about 
the cedar nut oil, I’ll pass that along, too. No regrets?” 

“What is there to regret? It would be a tiresome process, 
anyway I’ll dash off the third book, as I promised, and then 
I’ll get going with my business again, trade... or something 
else, something normal.” 


4 New Russians — the name given to a class of Russian nouveaux riches who 
acquired considerable wealth after the collapse of the Soviet Union. They 
were popularly perceived as intellectually limited individuals, notorious for 
their criminal background, uncultured manners, offensive jargon and os- 
tentatious display of wealth, all of which has given rise to a host of jokes. 



Chapter Thirty-Two 



(I don’t know what to call it; whoever can, 
come up with a title yourselves) 

I decided to tell Anastasia’s grandfather about my new as- 
sistants: 

“A lot of articles are now being written about Anastasia. 
She’s being talked about in both academic and religious 
circles. One production team, made up of very religious 
and considerate people, offered me a deal to grant them, 
in return for payment, the exclusive right to interpret 
and comment on Anastasia’s sayings in the mass media. I 
agreed.” 

‘And for what amount, Vladimir, did you agree to sell them 
Anastasia?” 

The tone of his question and what he was getting at left a 
rather bad taste in my mouth. And I answered: 

“What do you mean, ‘sell? I told them more about Anas- 
tasia than I wrote in the book. I told religious people so that 
they could offer their exclusive comments as well as their 
explanations of what she said. They want to meet with her. 
They’re even ready to finance an expedition. I agreed. What’s 
wrong with that?” 

The old fellow didn’t respond immediately Since no reply 
was forthcoming, I added: 

“They offered me money for an exclusive right — that’s the 
way we do things — people offer services for money. They 
will earn even more from their publications.” 

The oldster lowered his head and remained silent for a 
while. Then, as if thinking things over aloud, he said: 



206 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

“So, you, in your enterprising way, sold Anastasia and they, 
assuming themselves to be the most religious and competent 
people in the world, decided to buy her.” 

“Well, that’s a pretty strange way of putting it. So, when it 
comes right down to it, what did I do wrong?” 

“Tell me, Vladimir, didn’t it ever enter your head or the 
heads of those ‘religious’ people to think of asking, finding 
out or realising just who Anastasia herself wished to talk to 
and when — and how? And do people in your world go vis- 
iting without so much as an advance request to the host? I 
don’t recall her asking anybody to visit her.” 

“If she doesn’t want to talk with them, she doesn’t have to. 
She didn’t sign any deal.” 

“But you did. 1 She is ready to share what she knows with 
everyone, but it is her right to determine how she’s going 
to do this. And if she’s chosen to set it forth in a book and 
with your expression, who has the right to dictate or demand 
another? She made the choice herself, but somebody wants 
to change that, and the reason behind the effort to alter her 
choice is clear. She will not talk with people who put them- 
selves ahead of everyone else. With people whose self-right- 
eousness, she knows, will distort, overturn and adjust to their 
own way of thinking the truths she holds sacred.” 

“Why paint such a dark picture ahead of time? These peo- 
ple are interested in many different teachings. They are very 
religious.” 

“It is they who have determined that they are the most re- 
ligious of all. Religious self-righteousness is the apex of the 
most deadly of sins — pride.” 

I began to be overwhelmed with an inexplicable sense of 
anger at myself. I had not yet received payment for the deal 
and so I was able to break it. And shortly afterward, not see- 
ing anything amiss, I signed another deal with one of the re- 
ligious centres for the exclusive right to my own interviews. 



Title! 


207 


Once again I was taken in by their considerate attitude and 
the religious knowledge they displayed. Especially since this 
deal concerned me alone, and I could do with myself what I 
pleased. But once again both they and I fell into a trap, and 
once again it turned out that I had indirectly sold Anastasia, 
and they had bought her. 

And this time it was not Anastasia’s grandfather but a Mos- 
cow woman journalist who, after reading the new agreement, 
flustered: 

“Boy how stupid can you get? You’ve sold Anastasia real 
cheap. Take a closer look and see what the fine print says. 
You’ve signed over the right to others — an exclusive right — 
to exploit and use as they see fit, over the most powerful in- 
formation channel there is, everything you said relating to 
Anastasia. You’ve denied yourself the right even to question 
their opinion, no matter what it is.” 

To what degree that’s true it’s hard to say Maybe I’d better 
cite a few of the points of the agreement here: 

1. Subject of agreement: 

1. 1 The AUTHOR gives exclusive rights to all videotaping 
of himself as well as to the use of any other video materials con- 
nected directly or indirectly with the production of “Anastasia” 
television programmes (hereinafter referred to as “programmes”). 
The abovementioned transfer of rights to the CONTRACTOR 
extends to all countries of the world. 

1.2 The CONTRACTOR undertakes, at his own expense, to 
prepare one copy each of three programmes — of between 30 and 
40 minutes each — on a professional BETACAM recorder. 

1.3 By mutual agreement between AUTHOR and CON- 
TRACTOR, any interaction with video- or film-studios, television 
(including cable TV), as well as the shooting of any video on any 
equipment, as well as the use of video materials on the given subject, 
is to be e ffected only and exclusively by the CONTRACTOR. 



2o8 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


While this Agreement is in force the AUTHOR waives the 
right to give video interviews and prepare any audio materials 
using the concepts or terms that are in the programmes, either di- 
rectly or indirectly. 

After analysing all the events connected with the writing, 
publication and distribution of the Anastasia book, I came 
to the conclusion that people who call themselves “strongly 
religious” have a dark side which they themselves fear, and 
thus keep trying to assure others and persuade them of their 
religiosity They are probably afraid that people will discover 
their dark side. 

It’s so much simpler with entrepreneurs. Their actions and 
goals are more open, less obscured, and consequently they 
are also more honest both to themselves and to those around 
them, to society It’s possible I am mistaken. But you can’t 
get away from the facts. 

Three Moscow students keyboarded the text of Anastasia. 
They had no expectations of compensation any time soon. 
They never talked about any religious matters. 

The book was published by the manager of Moscow Print- 
shop Number Eleven, a retired officer by the name of Gennady 
Vladimirovich Grutsia, at his own expense. The print-run 
was small and there wasn’t even a thought of breaking even. 
Grutsia, an entrepreneur, never talked of religious matters ei- 
ther. The next run was paid for by the business manager of 
the Moscow Publishers’ Clearance House, Yuri Anatolievich 
Nikitin, but then it turned out he wasn’t dealing in books at 
the time. He gave me the greater part of the print-run to sell. 
He set no deadline for getting a return on his investment. 
And he, too, never talked about religious matters. 

And then the ‘religious’ people began putting in their two 
cents’ worth. And a print-run of 45,000 was released by an un- 
derground press. When this ‘religious’ firm was discovered, 



Title! 


209 


they started proclaiming their religiosity and desire to pro- 
duce bright things, and even promised to pay author’s royal- 
ties. They still keep promising that. And that’s not the only 
case. ‘Religious’ people generally seem to be very neglectful of 
accounts, especially when they’re the ones who owe money 

As to the transfer of exclusive rights, I have decided to 
make it clear on the pages of this book: I shall no longer give 
exclusive rights for the interpretation of Anastasia’s sayings 
to anybody. And if anybody challenges me on that, let people 
know that I have not given anything voluntarily! 

Why do I say voluntarily? The Moscow journalist who 
helped me break the contract soon became the target of 
anonymous threats. Who made them? What did they want? 
What kind of ‘religion’ do they profess? They support their 
religion by extortion. Well, I know what the extortion racket 
is all about; after all there are human beings there too. And I 
want to warn them: be extra careful around ‘religious’ people. 
And before getting into anything, consider calmly and care- 
fully where these ‘religious’ people are taking you. 

There’s more. In the first book I wrote that I had invited 
Anastasia to come to Moscow herself and appear on our TV, 
but she refused. I couldn’t understand why at the time. But 
now it is clear to me what she foresaw Even after the book 
came out, there have been many interpretations of what she 
said. Many quite different interpretations. Some are inter- 
esting, some are controversial, but among others one could 
clearly trace the desire on the part of certain people to inter- 
pret her in a manner that would serve their own interests. 

Direct challenges were thrown my way, for example: 

“So you think you alone have the right to talk with her?” 

“You don’t understand everything, let others speak with 
her, more will come out of it.” 

But she is not an object to hand over to someone. She is 
Man! And she herself has the right to decide how she will 



210 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


act, whom, she will speak with and what she will say. Now it’s 
become clearer than ever that Anastasia is really being sub- 
jected to attack by a visible and invisible throng of dark forces 
in the guise of fanatics and self-seekers. 

Back in the first book I quoted Anastasia as saying: 

“I know what a terrible mass of dark forces will descend 
upon me... but I am not afraid of them. I will succeed in raising 
my son. I will succeed in seeing my plan come true. And peo- 
ple will be carried across the dark forces’ window of time.” 

In Anastasia’s world they instruct their children up to 
eleven years of age. In other words, she has at least another 
ten years she can hold out. 

‘And then what?” I asked her grandfather. “Is she bound to 
perish?” 

“It’s hard to say,” the old fellow answered. “They all died 
quite a bit earlier, compared to her, and more than once she 
has embarked on a journey foretelling physical death, but each 
time, at the last moment, the law has flared up — forgotten it 
maybe, but it is still strong enough to overrule anything else. 
It has illuminated the essence of the truth about earthly ex- 
istence. And it has caused life to remain in her earthly body.” 

The old man fell silent and once again, preoccupied in 
thought, began tracing some sort of symbols on the ground 
with his stick. I too began thinking, wondering how on earth 
I got myself involved in a situation like this! But the thing 
was, I couldn’t very well walk away from it now. It might have 
been possible earlier, but not now, because of the child. 

Anastasia had given birth to a son. Even though she’d rath- 
er devote herself to caring for the child and raising him, she is 
not going to abandon her dream — to carry people across the 
dark forces’ window of time. And she will not. Because she’s 
really very stubborn. Someone like her will not walk away. 

And who will help her, naive as she is? If I should renege 
on my promise, she’s got nobody left. She’d go to pieces. And 



Title! 


211 


that’s something that should not happen to a nursing mother. 
She’s got to finish her breast-feeding, at the very least. And so 
I asked her grandfather: 

“Is there anything I can do for Anastasia?” 

“Try to figure out, for a start, what she’s talking about and 
what she wants. Then aimless wandering will give way to un- 
derstanding, and a wave of warmth will cheer the heart, and 
over the world will be unfurled a new dawn.” 

“Can you make it anymore specific?” I asked. 

“It’s hard for me to formulate it in any more specific way 
The whole important thing is sincerity in all. So start by do- 
ing what is dictated by your heart and soul.” 

“She told me about a particular Russian provincial town,” I 
remarked. “Said something about it possibly becoming richer 
than Jerusalem or Rome. Because all around there are many 
sacred sites of our forebears. Sites more significant than the 
temples at Jerusalem. Only the local people do not have suf- 
ficient conscious awareness to discern them. I want to go 
there, and change their conscious awareness.” 

“That’s not something that can be done quickly, Vladimir.” 

“Well, you see, I didn’t know it couldn’t be done, and so I 
promised Anastasia. And there must be some way of bringing 
about a change.” 

“Since you didn’t know it couldn’t be done, you shall change it 
indeed. More power to you! And now it’s time for me to go.” 

“I’ll see you off.” 

“Don’t waste your time. No need to see me off. Think 
about what you have to do.” 

The old fellow got up and offered me his hand. 

I watched Anastasia’s grandfather recede into the distance 
along the tree-lined boulevard, and thought of my forthcom- 
ing trip to the city of Gelendzhik, remembering what Anas- 
tasia had told me about it. And it was no mere chance con- 


versation. 



Chapter Thirty-Three 






f 


I asked Anastasia: 

“Do your people often come across ringing cedars?” 

“Very, very rarely,” she replied. “Perhaps two or three in a 
thousand years. Right now, apart from this one that has been 
saved, there is one more, and it can be sawed up and used for 
its designated purpose.” 

“What does that mean: ‘used for its designated purpose’? 
What is its purpose?” 

“The Great Intelligence of the Universe, God, Who cre- 
ated Man and his environment, no doubt had the foresight to 
give people the opportunity to restore their lost abilities, to 
use the wisdom accumulated in the non-material world. This 
wisdom has existed right from the start, but Man’s ability to 
perceive it has been lost through sinfulness. 

“My grandfather and great-grandfather told you about the 
ringing cedar and its extraordinary healing properties. What 
they did not explain was that its pulsations and rhythms are 
close to that Great Intelligence. 

“If they are merged and combined, as it were, with the 
rhythms already present in many people , then a Man who plac- 
es the palm of his hand on the warm trunk of a ringing cedar 
and runs his hand over it as though caressing it, thereby attains 
the possibility of communicating with the infinite expanse of 
wisdom. Such a Man is capable of becoming aware of many 
things in the scope of his thinking at the moment of contact 
or thereafter. This happens in varying degree with each indi- 
vidual. I am telling you about the highest manifestation.” 




With its hundreds of dolmens, Northern Caucasus (Russia) is a 
region with one of the highest concentrations of preserved mega- 
lithic sites in the world. Over the millennia, many of the dolmens 
were vandalised or destroyed. After Vladimir Megre’s The Ringing 
Cedars of Russia raised public awareness of their momentous spir- 
itual importance, millions of people have visited these formerly ne- 
glected and forgotten sites. Photos © 2004 by Alexey Kondaurov, 
Nizhny Novgorod, Russia. 




ielendzhik 


Black 


A map of the ‘dolmen country’ — Russian Northern Caucasus and 
the Black Sea coast (above) and a view of this region (below). Photo 
© 2006 by Olga Chernyshova, Sarov, Russia. 







Above: a dolmen complex in the process of restoration, Northern 
Caucasus, Russia. Photo © 2004 by Dmitry Samusev 

Below: a dolmen near the settlement of Pshada, with its front van- 
dalised and covered in modern graffiti. Photo © 2004 by Alexey 
Kondaurov, Nizhny Novgorod, Russia. 



The cedar of Lebanon planted some ioo years ago by the hand of 
Vladimir Korolenko, near the city of Gelendzhik. For details please 
see Chapter 33: “Your sacred sites, O Russia!”. 

Photo © 2006 by Olga Chernyshova, Sarov, Russia. 



Above: eight women employees of Drazhba Sanatorium on a trip to a 
dolmen near Pshada in the Caucasus mountains, 26 November 1996 
(see Chapter 33: “Your sacred sites, O Russia!”)- The picture was tak- 
en by Vladimir Megre himself as these women were preparing to lay 
flowers in honour of their distant forebear. Below: Vladimir Megre’s 
photo of Father Feodorit’s church (see Chepter 24: “Father Feodor- 
it”). Both photos appeared on the inside cover of an early Russian 
print-run of The Ringing Cedars of Russia. © 1996 by Vladimir Megre. 





The One and Only by a Single Line — this picture in the private col- 
lection of the Trinity-Sergiev Monastery (Sergiev Posad, Russia) is 
a copy of a famous engraving by Claude Mellan (1598-1688), Veil of 
St Veronica (1649), above. The face of Christ Jesus (‘the One and 
Only’) surmounted by a crown of thorns is executed by a single 
spiral line in 166 revolutions. For details on Vladimir Megre’s ex- 
periences connected with this image, please see Chapter 24: “Fa- 
ther Feodorit” and Chapter 25: “The Space of Love” in the present 
volume. 






The Dachnik Day holiday — honouring the millions of gardeners and 
celebrating Man’s connectedness to the Earth — is now celebrated 
on 23 July throughout Russia and beyond. Celebrations at the Rod- 
me eco-village, Vladimir Region, Russia, 2006 (above) and in Licking, 
Missouri, USA, 2005 (below). Photos © Leonid Sharashldn. 








Vladimir Megre arriving at the Ringing Cedars of Russia movement 
conference held in the city of Vladimir on 5 June 2004. The con- 
ference brought together over 400 delegates from 150 eco-villages 
from all over Russia and beyond. Photo © 2004 by Alexey Kondau- 
rov, Nizhny Novgorod, Russia. 



Tour sacred sites, O Russia! 


213 


“But why does it happen differently? Does the cedar 
choose to give its power to one person and not to another?” 

“Its operation is identical in each case. Its rhythm and vi- 
bration are always the same. But some people can tune into it 
and feel it all to the full, while others detect just a light touch. 
Many people don’t feel anything at all to start with. But con- 
scious awareness will gradually come even to those without 
feeling. At least they have a greater possibility of feeling it.” 

“I still don’t quite understand what kind of selection takes 
place.” 

“Vladimir, please try to ‘read my lips’: the difference is not 
in the power of the tree, but in the Man. Hmm... all right, 
I have found it — an example: music! You know, when mu- 
sic is playing... Music too, after all, consists of vibration and 
rhythm. But some people listen to it attentively, they begin to 
have feelings from it, sometimes even tears of joy and tender- 
ness. Others listen to the same music but feel nothing, or do 
not care about listening to it at all. 

“The same with the cedar. Only those who are capable 
of feeling and understanding will hear anything much at all. 
And this ‘much’ is something that will gradually unfold itself 
to them. It comes during the moments when Man feels like 
pondering it. 

“Women can gain the strength and wisdom of their pris- 
tine origins, they can fulfil their designated purpose and make 
both themselves and their chosen men happy, as well as their 
children they give birth to in Love. And here the miracle is 
not in the cedar, but in human aspirations. The cedar sim- 
ply assists them — it is not the major contributor to noble 
deeds.” 

“That’s incredible! It’s like some kind of tempting, beautiful 
legend!” 

“You do not believe me? You think what I am saying is only 
a legend? Why then did you make such an effort to come here 



214 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

and why were you so eager to have me show you the ringing 
cedar?” 

“Well, I don’t think it’s all a legend. At first I too didn’t be- 
lieve what your grandfather and great-grandfather said about 
the cedar. Later, after I returned home from the expedition, 
I read the popular scientific literature and got to know what 
scientists were saying about its healing properties, and I was 
struck by the fact that the scientists and the Bible were on 
the same wavelength. But I never found a hint anywhere of 
the cedar being used to feel a link with the Great Intelligence 
or God, as you describe it.” 

“Either you did not pay close enough attention to what the 
scientists or the Bible were saying, or you missed the main 
point — otherwise you would not be doubting my words.” 

“Then what could I have missed? There are only two refer- 
ences to cedars in the Bible: when God teaches how to treat 
people with their help, and then how to disinfect one’s home.” 

“But the Bible also talks about King Solomon as one of the 
wisest rulers that ever lived, one revered by his people. King 
Solomon, you will agree, is an historical personage — he was 
no legend.” 

“So?” 

‘And the Bible also says that this king built God a temple 
of cedar, and a house for himself beside it also made of ce- 
dar. And in order to get the cedar, he hired more than thirty 
thousand workers to bring it from another country. And to 
get the cedars cut down, Solomon asked another king named 
Hiram to give him people “skilled in felling timber ”. 1 Getting 
this cedar cost Solomon twenty cities of his kingdom. Think: 
why did the wisest of all rulers need to go to such expense 
and build his temple and house out of material which was less 
sturdy than what he had on hand already?” 


I Kings y: 6 ( New International Version). 



To ur sacred sites, 0 Russia! 


215 


“Why?” 

“You can find the answer to that, too, in the Bible, where 
it says: ‘And it came to pass, when the priests were come out 
of the holy place, that the cloud filled the house of the Lord, 
So that the priests could not stand to minister because of the 
cloud: for the glory of the Lord had filled the house of the 
Lord .’ 2 You can find indirect proofs of this in the works of 
your prominent scientists.” 

“That’s great. Something, I think, I can believe in. It 
means the cedar will reveal many secrets to people. Show me 
the ringing cedar that can be sawed up. I’ll bring it to a city 
with easy access for people from all over the world wishing to 
touch it.” 

“Where will you find a city on the Earth where the inhabit- 
ants will not simply desecrate this sacred cedar, but actually 
ensure its protection and provide a suitable exhibition space 
and access for visitors?” 

“I’ll try to find one. Tell me, why have you concluded that 
it’s going to be such a difficult task?” 

“People’s consciousness today is too bound up with the 
programmes of the technocratic world. They are becoming 
biological robots.” 

“What kind of biological robots?” 

“The technocratic world is structured in such a way that 
Man keeps on inventing all sorts of mechanical devices and 
social orders supposedly to make his life easier. But in fact, 
any saving of labour is an illusion. 

“Man himself is becoming a robot of the technocratic 
world. He never has enough time to contemplate the essence 
of being or listen to what another is saying, and no time, either, 
to reflect on his own destiny He is literally a programmed 
robot. Here you are seeing everything with your own eyes, 


2 I Kings 8 : 10, 11 {Authorised King James Version). 



21 6 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


and hearing it with your own ears, and you still find it hard to 
believe.” 

“Anastasia, with me it’s a different story. I cannot call my- 
self a strong believer. I believe... in general. But probably not 
the same way other people do. In our world right now there 
are a lot of people who truly do believe. Many read the Bible. 
They will grasp it immediately they see how much the Bible 
talks about the cedar. They will believe and take good care of 
your little piece of cedar.” 

“There are different kinds of belief, Vladimir. It often hap- 
pens that a Man will hold in his hands the Koran, or the Bible, 
or another book containing the wisdom of the ages, and say 
that he believes, and even try to teach others, whereas in fact 
he is simply attempting, as it were, to make a deal with God: 
‘Look here, I believe in You. Remember that in case anything 
happens.”’ 

“What then is belief, or faith?” I enquired. “How should it 
be expressed?” 

“In one’s way of life, in one’s perception of the world, in 
the understanding of one’s essence and designated purpose, 
in one’s corresponding behaviour and relationship to the en- 
vironment, in one’s thinking.” 

“So, just believing is not enough?” 

“Just believing is not enough. Imagine an army All the sol- 
diers, down to the last one, believe in their commander. But 
they do not go into battle. They have such strong faith in 
him that they trust he will win in any case. So the soldiers sit 
back and watch as their commander goes up alone against the 
enemy forces. They sit there in a state of frenzy and call out: 
‘Go, go, go! We believe in you, we know you can do it!”’ 

“That’s no help, Anastasia. You didn’t make a real analogy 
Those kinds of absurdities simply don’t happen.” 

“Those kinds of absurdities do happen in real life, 
Vladimir.” 



Tour sacred sites, O Russia! 


217 


“Then give me an example from the concrete realities of 
our life, and not something made up.” 

“Fine. There is a city in Russia called Gelendzhik. It has 
a noble purpose — to be a place where people can go to relax 
from their daily grind, a place to meditate and touch sacred 
sites. 

“There are many sacred sites in and around this city, which 
are more significant than those found in Jerusalem, more sig- 
nificant than the pyramids of Egypt. 

“This city could be one of the richest cities in the world. 
Richer than Jerusalem or Rome. But the city is dying. It is 
a resort town. All its houses and hotels are becoming empty 
and decaying. The materialistic consciousness of the local au- 
thorities prevents them from seeing the treasures which are 
capable of making the city flourish. When they talk about the 
city, they emphasise the sea, the artificial treatment facilities 
available, and the fact that the local hotel rooms are equipped 
with bedside tables and fridges. They do not even mention 
the sacred sites. They know little about them themselves, 
and do not want to know. Their priorities lie elsewhere. 

“There are many people living in this city who call them- 
selves believers. People of many different denominations. 
Some of them actively engage in proselytising. What faith do 
they proselytise? With their attitude to their surroundings 
they have been and still are violating the very commandments 
contained in their sacred books. In the Bible, for instance, 
where it says: ‘Love thy neighbour as thyself .’ 3 

“But you have to know your neighbour before you can love 
him. You cannot love whom you do not know. But they, the 
ones who call themselves believers, do not know their neigh- 
bours, or even their forebears who lived in that sacred land 


3 Matth. 22: 39 {Authorised King James Version). 



2l8 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


and left them the inexhaustible treasure of the sacred sites as 
their legacy. Our ancestors have carried with them over the 
millennia waves of wisdom and the light of their own soul. 
Many people call themselves believers yet do not notice what 
is sacred around them. The sacred sites which have been left 
them by their ancestors to help them.” 

“What kind of sacred sites could possibly be found in a 
city like that?” 

“You see, Vladimir, near the city of Gelendzhik can be 
found growing the Lebanese cedar mentioned so many times 
in the Bible. And this living, direct creation of God, talked 
about so much even before Christ Jesus’ coming to Earth, is 
located right next to this city It is only a hundred years old. 
It is still but a stripling, though already very beautiful and 
sturdy 

“It has grown there because it was planted by a worthy 
Man. He was a writer named Korolenko . 4 Thanks to his 
erstwhile popularity, the cedar has been protected with a sur- 
rounding hedge. But today the house where he lived is in a 
state of decay and people are not paying attention to the tree 
he planted.” 

‘And what about the believers?” 

“Many of the people in the city who call themselves believ- 
ers pay no attention either to the tree or the other great sa- 
cred sites of their forebears. They are destroying them. And 
the city is dying.” 

“That means God’s punishing them in some kind of venge- 
ance, eh?” 


4 Vladimir Galaktionov ich Korolenko (1853-1921) — a Russian writer known 
for his short stories and his autobiographical narrative “The story of my 
contemporary”. His writings, permeated with ideals of democracy and hu- 
manitarianism, were critical of both the tsarist and communist regimes. 



Tour sacred sites, O Russia! 


219 


“God is good. He is never vengeful. But what can He do 
when His creations are ignored?” 

“That’s amazing! Can such a tree really exist? I must look 
into that.” 

“It exists. And there are many other sacred sites around 
the city. But people treat them from a technocratic point of 
view, like the pyramids of the wise pharaohs.” 

“What? How do you know about the existence of the 
Egyptian pyramids?” 

“Thanks to generations of my forebears the ability has 
been preserved within me to communicate with the dimen- 
sion where thoughts and wisdom reside. This communica- 
tion gives one the opportunity to learn anything one might 
wish to know, anything that captures one’s interest.” 

“Hold on a moment. Let me test you. Answer me, do you 
know the secrets of the Egyptian pyramids?” 

“I do. Just as I know that those who investigated those pyr- 
amids were constantly working from a material standpoint. 
They were basically interested in how they were constructed, 
the dimensions and relations of the sides to each other, what 
treasures were hidden inside, what things were to be found 
there. They considered people living at the time the pyramids 
were built to be superstitious. They regarded the pyramids 
only as a means of preserving the pharaohs’ valuables, their 
bodies, their glory. Thus they distanced themselves from what 
was fundamental, from what was consciously designed.” 

“I don’t understand you, Anastasia. What conscious de- 
sign where they distancing themselves from?” 

Anastasia didn’t speak for some time, staring, it seemed, 
somewhere off into infinity And then she began telling her 
remarkable story: 

“You see, Vladimir, way back in ancient times people living 
on the Earth had the capacity to use wisdom and intelligence 
far surpassing the abilities of modern Man. People at the time 



220 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


of the Earth’s pristine origins enjoyed ready access to all the 
information in the entire database of the Universe. This in- 
formation filling the Universe was created by the Great Intel- 
ligence, God. With contributions both from Him and from 
people themselves — their thoughts. It is so superb that it 
is capable of answering any question, unobtrusively. The an- 
swer would appear instantaneously in the subconscious of the 
Man asking the question.” 

‘And what did it give these people?” 

“These people needed no spaceships for travelling to other 
planets. All they had to do was wish for it, and they could see 
what was happening there. 

“These people needed no television, telephone or commu- 
nication wires ensnaring the Earth — not even literacy since 
all the information you derive from books they were able to 
obtain instantaneously by other means. 

“These people needed no industries producing medicines 
or drugs, they could get all the best remedies possible simply 
by a gentle wave of the hand, since whatever they needed is 
available in Nature. 

“These people needed none of your modern transporta- 
tion devices. They did not need cars or food-processing com- 
plexes, for everything was supplied to them. 

“They knew that a change in climatic conditions in one 
part of the Earth was a signal to them to move to another 
part, so that the part they were leaving might refresh itself. 
They had an understanding of the Universe along with their 
own planet. They were thinkers and knew their designated 
purpose. They worked to bring the planet Earth to perfec- 
tion. They had no equals in the Universe. In terms of intel- 
ligence they were second only to the Great Intelligence of the 
Universe, or God. 

‘Approximately ten thousand years ago, in the human civi- 
lisation that then populated what is now Europe, Asia, the 



Tour sacred sites, O Russia! 


221 


northern part of Africa and the Caucasus, individuals arose in 
whom the link with the Intelligence of the Universe was par- 
tially or wholly deadened. This point marks the beginning of 
mankind’s movement toward a disaster of global proportions. 
The exact nature of the disaster is immaterial — ecological, 
nuclear or bacteriological, either as forecast by scientists or 
foretold allegorically by ancient religions.” 

“Hold on, there, Anastasia! I don’t at all see how the ap- 
pearance of such ‘invalids’ can be related to a global disaster.” 

“Your choice of that modern term invalids is very apt. Yes, 
they were invalids, handicapped people. Now when someone 
is deprived of sight, what do they need?” 

“Someone to guide them.” 

‘And someone deprived of hearing?” 

‘A hearing apparatus.” 

‘And someone with no arms or legs?” 

“Prostheses.” 

“But there was something much greater that they lacked. 
They did not have a link to the Intelligence of the Universe. 
Hence the loss of the knowledge which would help improve 
the Earth and govern it. 

“Imagine what would happen if the crew of a super-mod- 
ern spaceship suddenly lost ninety percent of their mental ca- 
pacity Not comprehending anything, they might start taking 
apart the panelling and building a fire in the cabin, or pull in- 
struments out of their consoles to use for toys or decoration. 

“Well, these people can be compared exactly to a dement- 
ed crew like that. And these were the people, these were the 
‘handicapped invalids’ who first invented the stone axe, then 
the spear, then... And it is their thoughts that ‘progressed’ 
over time to the invention of nuclear warheads. It is their 
thoughts that even today continue with incredible stubborn- 
ness to tear down already perfect creations and substitute 
their own primitive artifacts. 



222 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


“Their descendants started inventing more and more, 
and in doing so kept tearing apart the super-modern, natu- 
ral mechanisms of the Earth and creating all sorts of artifi- 
cial social structures. Then people started fighting with each 
other. 

“These mechanisms, these machines, were incapable of 
existing all by themselves, like natural ones. Not only could 
they not reproduce themselves, but they could not restore 
themselves after a breakdown as a tree can, for example. And 
then they, the technocrats, required a vast army of workers to 
service these mechanisms, virtually transforming a segment 
of the general populace into biological robots. These biologi- 
cal robots, lacking as they do, any individual capacity to learn 
the truth, very easily lend themselves to manipulation. 

“For example, they were all too easily injected, through 
artificial information media, with the programme ‘We must 
build communism’ — symbols were created for it, including 
lapel pins and flags of a certain colour. Then later, through 
these same media, the programme ‘Communism is bad’ was 
inculcated in another segment of the populace, and other 
symbols and colours were brought to the fore. And then 
these two groups with different programming end up hating 
each other, right to the point of physical annihilation. 

“But this all began ten thousand years ago, at the time of 
a significant increase in the number of people deprived of a 
link to the Great Intelligence. Indeed, you could even call 
them demented, since there was not a single living creature 
capable of polluting the Earth the way they did. 

“In those far-off times a few people were still left who had 
free access to the wisdom of the Universe. They hoped that 
when mankind reached the point that the polluted air made 
it difficult to breathe and the water became dangerous to 
drink, and all its artificially created life-support systems — 
technological and social — proved themselves too awkward 



Tour sacred sites, O Russia! 


223 


and more and more often only led to disastrous imbalances, 
mankind would start having second thoughts. 

“People standing on the edge of an abyss will start think- 
ing about what being is all about, they will start pondering 
the meaning of their existence and purpose. Then many of 
them will desire to understand the truth of their pristine ori- 
gins, and this is possible — but only under the absolute con- 
dition that the abilities inherent in Man’s pristine origins be 
restored. 

“Few of the people who lived ten thousand years ago still 
possessed these abilities. It was basically those heading up 
social groups, leaders of tribes. They began — or rather, at 
their behest people began — to construct special facilities 
made of heavy stone slabs. These enclosed an interior cham- 
ber about one-and-a-half by two metres in area and two me- 
tres in height — sometimes more, sometimes less. The slabs 
were placed at a slight angle, leaning toward the centre at the 
top. Occasionally these chambers would be hewn out of a sin- 
gle monolith. Other chambers might be hidden underground 
and covered over by mounds of earth. On one of the walls of 
the chamber, a cone-shaped opening was cut into the slab, ap- 
proximately thirty centimetres in diameter and covered with 
a specially fitted stone plug. 

“Into these tomb-chambers would go people who had not 
lost the ability to communicate with the wisdom of the Uni- 
verse. Those still alive and even those who might be born 
thousands of years hence would be able to go to them and 
obtain answers to any questions that were of interest to Man. 
This required sitting beside the chamber and meditating. 
Sometimes the answer would come right away, sometimes af- 
ter a delay, but it would definitely come, since these structures 
and those that retreated into them served as an information 
receiver. Through them it was easier to communicate with 
the Great Intelligence of the Universe. 



224 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

“These stone structures are the prototype of the Egyptian 
pyramids. Only the pyramids do not constitute nearly as pow- 
erful a receiver, even though they are far greater in size. Their 
essence and function, however, is pretty much the same. 

“The pharaohs who were buried in the Egyptian pyramids 
were also thinkers, and at least partially preserved the abili- 
ties inherent in Man’s pristine origins. 

“But in order to obtain an answer to a question using the 
pyramids, those still living had to come to the pyramid not 
individually, but in large numbers. They had to stand along 
each of the four sides, and direct their physical and mental 
gaze upward, as though slamming over the pyramid’s oblique 
sides right to its top. 

“There at the top, people’s gazes and thoughts focused on a 
single point, consequently forming a channel facilitating con- 
tact with the Mind of the Universe. 

“Even today it is possible to do the same thing and obtain a 
desired answer. At the focal point of everyone’s mental gaze 
an energy forms, an energy not unlike radiation. If a measuring 
device were placed at the top of the pyramid, right at the focal 
point, it would record the intensity of this energy The people 
standing at the base, too, would feel strange sensations. 

“Oh, if it were not for the sinful pride of people today, the 
prevailing public opinion, the false perception that past civi- 
lisations were less advanced! People today would then be able 
to find out the real purpose of the pyramids. With all the at- 
tention modern researchers have paid to how they were built, 
they still have not been able to figure this out. 

‘And it is all so simple: in constructing the pyramids, apart 
from physical strength and various pieces of equipment, they 
always used mental energy to reduce the force of gravitation. 
Whole groups of people with this kind of an ability 7 would as- 
sist the builders. There are people alive today who are able to 
move small objects with their will. 



Tour sacred sites, O Russia! 


225 


“But of immeasurably greater significance than the pyra- 
mids in terms of contact with the Mind of the Universe were 
the smaller stone structures which preceded them.” 

“Why, Anastasia?” I asked. “Because of the way they were 
constructed, their shape?” 

“Because, Vladimir, living people retreated there to die. 
And their death was a most unusual one. They went into eter- 
nal meditation.” 

“What do you mean, living people? What for?” 

“To create for their descendants the possibility of bring- 
ing back the power of their pristine origins. An elderly per- 
son — as a rule, one of the wiser leaders or founders of a tribe, 
sensing his end was near, would ask his relatives and family to 
place him in a stone chamber. If he were considered worthy, 
they would grant his request. 

“They would push away the heavy massive slab covering 
the top of the chamber. He would go into the stone cham- 
ber and the slab would be pushed back into place. Inside, the 
Man would be completely isolated from the external mate- 
rial world. His eyes would see nothing, his ears would hear 
nothing. Such complete isolation, the impossibility of even 
entertaining a thought about going back, but not yet having 
crossed into the next world, the deactivation of the usual or- 
gans of feeling, sight and hearing, would open up the oppor- 
tunity for full communication with the Mind of the Universe 
and the comprehension of many phenomena, as well as of 
many of the actions of Earth-dwellers. Most important of all, 
they would be able to subsequently transmit what they had 
discovered to those still alive, as well as to succeeding genera- 
tions. Today you would call an approximation of such a state 
of mind meditation. But that is merely child’s play in compari- 
son with meditation in eternity 

‘Afterward, people would come to this stone chamber, 
pull out the plug covering the opening, and begin thinking, 



226 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

mentally consulting with the thoughts lingering in the cham- 
ber. The spirit of wisdom was always there.” 

“But, Anastasia, by what means can you prove the existence 
of such structures to those of us living today, let alone the fact 
that people went into them for ‘eternal meditation?” 

“I can! That is why I am telling you.” 

“Then how?” 

“It is very simple. After all, these chambers made of 
stone — they still exist today Today you call them dolmens? 
You can see them, and touch them. And you can verify every- 
thing I have told you.” 

“What??? Where? Can you pinpoint their location?” 

“Yes, I can. In Russia, for example, in the Caucasus moun- 
tains, not far from the cities you now call Gelendzhik, Tuapse, 
Novorossiysk and Sochi.” 

“I can verify that. I’ll make a special trip there. I still can’t 
believe such things exist. I’ll definitely check to see.” 

“Do verify, by all means. The local inhabitants know about 
them, but they do not pay any attention to them. Many dol- 
mens have already been plundered. People do not understand 
their true purpose. They do not know about the possibili- 
ties they afford for contact with the wisdom of the Universe. 
Those who have entered into eternal meditation can never be 
re-embodied in anything material. They have sacrificed eter- 
nity for the sake of their descendants, and now it turns out 
their knowledge and opportunities have gone begging. This 
has caused them great sorrow and anguish. 

‘As for proof that in the past living people went into these 
dolmens to die, this may be confirmed by the position of the 


5 dolmens — see Book 1, Chapter 30: ‘Author’s message to readers”. 

6 Gelendzhik, Tuapse, Novorossiysk, Sochi — cities on the eastern shore of the 
Black Sea. 



Tour sacred sites, O Russia! 


227 


skeletal bones discovered in them. Some were found in a re- 
clining position, others sitting in a corner or semi-reclining, 
leaning against one of the stone slabs. 

“This fact has been attested by people today It has been 
described by your scientists, but they still have not attrib- 
uted any special significance to it. No serious studies of the 
dolmens have been undertaken. The dolmens are being laid 
waste by the local inhabitants. Some of them have been using 
their stone slabs for construction of new buildings.” 

Anastasia sorrowfully lowered her head and fell silent. I 
promised her: 

“I will tell them what you said. I’ll explain everything to 
them so they won’t go on plundering and laying waste. They 
won’t mock them any more. They simply didn’t know...” 

“Do you think you will manage to convince them?” 

“I’ll try I’ll go to these places and try to explain. I don’t 
know quite how at the moment. I’ll find these dolmens, pay 
my respects to them, and explain it all to the people.” 

“That would be good. Then, if you are going to those plac- 
es, please pay your respects to the dolmen in which my fore- 
mother died.” 

‘Astonishing! How do you know that your foremother 
lived in these places and how she died?” 

Anastasia replied: 

“How could one not know, Vladimir, how one’s ancestors 
lived and what they did? How could one not be aware of their 
desires and aspirations? My ancient foremother certainly de- 
serves to be remembered. All the mothers in my family since 
then have learnt of her wisdom. And she continues to help 
me today. 

“My foremother was a woman who had perfect knowl- 
edge of how to inculcate in her child, through breast-feeding, 
the ability to communicate with the Mind of the Universe. 
Even back in her time people were starting to ignore the 



228 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


significance of this, just as people ignore it today; In breast- 
feeding an infant the mother should never allow herself to be 
distracted by random thoughts, but concentrate all her atten- 
tion on her child. My foremother knew what to think about 
and how, and consequently wanted to share her knowledge 
with everyone. 

“She was not yet that old when she started asking the 
leader about being placed in a dolmen. This was because the 
leader was getting old and she knew his successor would not 
accede to her request. Women were rarely permitted to go 
into a dolmen. The old leader revered my foremother and 
had great respect for her knowledge, and he gave his consent. 
Only he could not compel any menfolk to push back the dol- 
men’s heavy stone slab and then reseal it once my foremother 
had entered. Consequently this task had to be carried out by 
women, and women alone. 

“But nobody comes to visit my foremother’s dolmen any 
more. People are not interested in what she knows. And she 
so desperately wanted to share it with everybody. She wanted 
children to be happy and a joy to their parents.” 

‘Anastasia, if you wish, I shall go visit this dolmen and ask 
her how to breast-feed infants — ask her what to think along 
this line and how. Just tell me where it’s located.” 

“Fine, I shall tell you. Only you will not be able to compre- 
hend her response. You are not a nursing mother, after all. 
You do not know what a breast-feeding mother feels. Only 
women, nursing mothers, are in a position to understand. 
Just go to the dolmen, go up to it and touch it. Think some 
good thought about my foremother — she will like that.” 

For some time neither of us said a word. I was amazed at 
how detailed her explanations were regarding the exact loca- 
tion of the dolmens — enough information for me to subse- 
quently verify, and I was not about to raise any further doubts 
about their existence. I did ask her, however, to show me 



Tour sacred sites, O Russia! 


229 


some proof of the possibility of contact with the invisible and 
still incomprehensible (to me) ‘wisdom of the Universe’. To 
which Anastasia responded: 

“Vladimir, if you keep on doubting everything I say, any 
proof I have to offer will seem incomprehensible and uncon- 
vincing to you. And I shall have to spend a great deal of time 
explaining.” 

“Don’t be offended, Anastasia — it’s just that your unusual 
lifestyle as a recluse...” 

“How can you call me a recluse when I have the opportuni- 
ty to communicate not only with everyone and everything on 
Earth but with significantly more? So many on Earth are sur- 
rounded by utterly lonely people just like themselves. These 
are real hermit-recluses. It is not that frightening to be alone. 
It is much more frightening when one is lonely even when 
surrounded by people.” 

“But still,” I persisted, “if one of our prominent scientists, 
let’s say, could talk about that dimension — the one where, 
as you say, thoughts produced by human civilisations reside, 
people would be more inclined to believe than just on your 
say-so. That’s the way people today are — they look to formal 
science as an authority” 

“There are such scientists — I have seen their thoughts. I 
cannot tell you their names. But no doubt they are renowned 
scholars by your standards. They have the capacity for prolif- 
ic thought. You can hunt down the proofs you need when you 
get back, and compare them with everything I have said.” 



230 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


Upon arriving in the Caucasus, I located the dolmens in the 
mountains near Gelendzhik. I took some colour photos of 
them. They knew about the dolmens at the local history muse- 
um, only they didn’t attach any particular significance to them. 

I also managed to find the dolmen where Anastasia’s fore- 
mother was buried. Paying my respects, I laid flowers on the 
moss-covered stone portal. 

As I looked at the dolmens, I realised that here was vis- 
ible and tangible proof of Anastasia’s words. By that time I 
had read the account from I Kings in the Bible about King 
Solomon and his relationship to the cedars of Lebanon. Not 
being much of a scholar myself, I wasn’t about to leaf through 
a whole lot of scientific works trying to find confirmation of 
Anastasia’s words. But by extraordinary coincidences this 
young recluse from the remote Siberian taiga seemed to be 
able to confirm — from a distance — the truth of everything 
she said, and in the language of modern science. People took 
it upon themselves to bring or send to me scientific studies 
dealing with the existence of the Mind of the Universe. 

At the beginning of the book I cited the conclusions of two 
academicians — Vlail Kaznacheev, member of the Russian 
Academy of Medical Sciences and director of the Institute of 
Clinical and Experimental Medicine, and Anatoly Akimov of 
the International Institute of Theoretical and Applied Phys- 
ics in the Russian Academy of Natural Sciences — published 
in the May 1996 issue of Chudesa i prikliuchenia ( Wonders and 
adventures ). 


'See I Kings, Chapters 4-10. 



Tour sacred sites, 0 Russia! 


231 


I have been writing this chapter about the sacred sites of Ge- 
lendzhik right in the city itself. The text has been keyboarded 
into the computer by an employee of the Druzhba (Friend- 
ship) Sanatorium, Marina Davydovna Slabkina. Prior to its 
publication in the book it was gone over by employees of the 
sanatorium. And something interesting has happened. 

On 26 November 1996 at 10:30 in the morning (Moscow 
time) an event occurred which did not have any obvious claim 
to significance, although I am certain that it will prove to be 
of planetary proportions. 

A group of women were making their way toward one of 
the dolmens in the mountains near the settlement of Pshada s 
in the Gelendzhik district. They were all employees of the 
Druzhba Sanatorium: VT. Larionova, N.M. Gribanova, 
L.S. Zvegintseva, T.N. Zaitseva, T-N. Kurovskaya, A. G. Taras- 
ova, L.N. Romanova and M.D. Slabkina. 

In contrast to the tourists that sometimes visit these 
places to admire their natural beauty and gawk at this lonely 
mountain dolmen, these people, possibly for the first time in 
a millennium, came to the dolmen for the specific purpose of 
honouring the memory of their ancient forebear. To honour 
the memory of a person who lived more than ten thousand 
years ago. A wise leader of his people who, at his own initia- 
tive, was sealed into this stone crypt. Alive, so that over the 
millennia he could share the wisdom of the Universe with his 
descendants. 

It is difficult to say for just how many millennia his efforts 
went begging. Traces of our own era’s atrocities are seared 
into the ancient slabs in the form of modern graffiti and the 
forcibly enlarged aperture in the dolmen’s portal. Visitors to 


Pshada — the name not only of a settlement, but also of a river and its 
valley The seventy-plus Pshada dolmens are considered to be the prime 
examples of megalith architecture in the whole Caucasus. 



232 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

the dolmen, at least over the past century, have thought lit- 
tle about its significance — about the person buried here, his 
wisdom, his desire and aspiration to sacrifice his life for the 
living. This is all eloquently attested in a number of pre-revo- 
lutionary as well as more recent monographs I have seen. 

Scientists, researchers and archaeologists have been more 
interested in the dimensions of the dolmen itself, amazed and 
eager to determine how the multi-tonne slabs were prepared 
and put in place. 

And now... I looked at the women standing by the dol- 
men with the flowers they had brought to lay at the portal, 
and thought to myself: How many centuries or even millen- 
nia have passed since you last received flowers, O illustrious 
ancestor?! What does your soul feel now? What is happening 
this very moment in the astral world? Have you, our distant 
and yet so close forebears, taken these flowers as the first sign 
that your efforts were not in vain? And among people today, 
your descendants, there is an aspiration toward living one’s 
life with greater conscious awareness. These are but the first 
flowers. No doubt there will be more and more. But the first 
ones are the most desirable, and you will be helping those 
who are now living attain the wisdom of the Universe and the 
conscious awareness of being. You are our distant forebears. 

Participants in this visit to the dolmen included the sanitary 
inspector of the Gelendzhik health service E.I. Pokrovsky 
He had been invited by Valentina Larionova, in her capacity 
as local tour guide and museum curator, to accompany them 
and measure the dolmen’s radioactivity 

Ms Larionova told me that once on an excursion she had 
led to this dolmen, a tourist had brought along a Geiger coun- 
ter, which had showed a significant level of radiation. This 
individual later took her aside (so as not to alarm the other 
tourists), showed her the counter and told her about the pres- 
ence of radioactivity at the dolmen. 



Tour sacred sites, O Russia! 


233 


This time the health service inspector had brought along 
a fairly accurate radiation meter in its own special case. He 
began measuring radiation levels even before we got close to 
the dolmen, and continued his readings right up to the dol- 
men itself and even inside. 

While Ms Larionova was giving her talk to the group of 
women, I was seized by the fear that now this medical inspec- 
tor would announce the results of his measurements for all to 
hear, and as this would not just be a tourist’s observation, but 
an official conclusion, people might stop coming to visit the 
dolmen once they learnt of the elevated radiation levels. 

Anastasia had told me that this radiation-like energy could 
come and go. It was controllable and could have a beneficial ef- 
fect on Man. But how would we, people of the modern world, 
look upon the opinions of this (let’s admit) not very typical 
woman, in contrast with the affirmations of modern science 
and facts established by modem scientific equipment — espe- 
cially concerning radiation, which Man is so fearful of today? 

Oh God, I thought, poor Anastasia! She wanted so much, 
after all, for people to take a different attitude, a more 
thoughtful attitude toward these ancient, extraordinary bur- 
ial places of our ancestors. And now there would be an offi- 
cial pronouncement. Even in the best case, it would mean no 
more visitors to the dolmens. In the worst case they might 
be destroyed altogether. People wouldn’t even use them any 
longer for construction as they had done before. But if this 
Mind of the Universe really exists, if Anastasia can use it so 
freely, then they’d better come up with something, at least. 

Pokrovsky approached the group of employees standing by 
the dolmen and announced the readings on the meter. They 
were most extraordinary. I felt overwhelmed — first with 
amazement, and then with joy. According to the readings, 
the closer one got to the dolmen, the more the Earth’s back- 
ground radiation... decreased! 



234 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

This was all the more remarkable since, on its way to the 
dolmen, our group had passed through areas of elevated ra- 
dioactivity One would have expected the people standing at 
the dolmen — their clothing, shoes, etc. — to have retained 
traces of this radiation. But, in spite of this, the measuring 
device still showed decreased levels. It was as though an in- 
visible someone had said: “Do not be afraid of us, people. 
We are your distant forebears. We wish you well. Take our 
knowledge, children!” 

And all at once I realised — Anastasia! This phenomenon 
must be attributable directly to her. Yes, definitely to her. 
Even though she was thousands of kilometres away, she had 
drawn an invisible line across the millennia, linking those liv- 
ing today with an ancient civilisation, thereby causing a surge 
in people’s consciousness of an aspiration toward good. Even 
if it were just among a small group of people, it was still a be- 
ginning. And it was something absolutely real, since here in 
front of me was a real dolmen, and here were real and tangible 
women, and real flowers that they had brought. 

According to scientific literature, dolmens are to be found 
near Tuapse, Sochi and Novorossiysk, as well as in England, 
Turkey, North Africa and India. This points to the existence 
of an ancient civilisation with a single culture, whose mem- 
bers could communicate over vast distances. As Anastasia’s 
information reaches more and more people, their attitude 
toward whatever other dolmens have been preserved will no 
doubt change. 

This is evidenced by the reaction of the people of Ge~ 
lendzhik. Indeed, the world’s first excursion to a dolmen fol- 
lowing Anastasia’s amazing revelations about them took place 
at Gelendzhik, led by Valentina Larionova, “the luckiest and 
happiest woman alive”, as she describes herself. And here was 
a woman with thirty years’ experience as a tour guide, and a 
member of the Gelendzhik city council to boot. 



Tour sacred sites, O Russia! 


235 


But that’s not all. Under Ms Larionova’s guidance, a group 
of local historians began comparing already known facts; they 
spoke with long-term residents of the area and read biogra- 
phies of saints, all of which enabled them to confirm the ex- 
istence in the Gelendzhik environs of the sacred sites Anas- 
tasia had spoken of. These were unique sacred sites of Russia, 
most of which were not even mentioned in a single tourist 
brochure. They included the Lebanese cedar, St Nina’s moun- 
tain, a monastery and the Sacred Hand Springs . 9 People who 
are healed there tie a cloth ribbon around a tree. 

In the Gelendzhik area a church is now being restored. A 
branch of the Trinity-Sergiev Monastery is under construc- 
tion. I observed all this and thought to myself: Look at all 
these sacred sites in just one small comer of Russia! Springs 
of healing waters. And here Russians are traipsing off to the 
ends of the earth to worship other people’s gods. How many 
still forgotten sacred sites are waiting to be discovered in oth- 
er parts of Russia? And who will discover them? 

I’ve done what I can. It’s a pittance, of course, but at last it 
has given me some hope that Anastasia will show me our son. 
So, armed with rompers, toys and baby food, I set off for the 
Siberian taiga to once again see Anastasia and meet my son. 

To be continued... 


9 Sacred Hand Springs — the reference here is to five springs which merge at 
one point to form the shape of a hand. 



Iii Anastasia’s Ray 

Editor’s Afterword 

Taking advantage of the frosty weather which had put a near- 
by lake under a thick shield of ice, I spent a Sunday afternoon 
skating with my daughter. The sky was overcast and a chilly 
north wind was blowing, but layers of winter clothing and en- 
ergetic movement kept us warm. The same day, 26 December 
2004, a local newspaper reported temperatures below io°F 
(-i2°C) and featured an article on ice fishing. 

Five days later, on New Year’s Eve, we were having tea on 
the porch of our house, basking in the Sun’s hot rays and 
watching our daughter in her summer dress smelling yellow 
dandelions and feeding honey to a bee that had joined our 
meal. After breakfast we went for a walk by the lake, only 
to discover no traces of ice whatsoever. The Sun’s heat was 
so intense that the temperature in the shade climbed to 65T 
(i8°C) and a new and historic record high was set. The news- 
paper printed photographs of residents of Columbia, Mis- 
souri, wearing shorts and T-shirts, enjoying the outdoors on 
31 December 2004, and commented on the “unseasonably 
warm weather”. 

And then I remembered the words Anastasia had ad- 
dressed to Vladimir Megre nine years earlier: 1 

I am making it happen. . . . Can you not feel the gentle touch 
of the breeze, feel its caressing embrace? And the warm 
touch of the Sun’s glistening rays on your face? Can you 

'Book 2, Chapter 25: “The Space of Love” (my italics). 



Editor’s Afterword 


237 


not hear the birds singing so cheerfully and the leaves rus- 
tling on the tree you are sitting under?... Love dissolved in 
Space for one can touch the hearts of many. 

I could not hear any rustling of leaves since it was the mid- 
dle of winter, but the warm breeze, the bird songs and the 
Sun’s generous warmth were very real indeed. Anyone who 
witnessed this unique outpouring of sunshine in the middle 
of the Midwest winter could not help but sense something 
unusual in the air, but I felt I knew something special about 
the cause of this sudden weather change. It was on this day, 31 
December 2004, that the English translation of Anastasia was 
completed, and it seemed as if Nature were rejoicing at the 
birth of the book, the same way it had celebrated the birth of 
Anastasia’s son with a warm sunny day, pushing away the icy 
grip of the Siberian winter in 1996. 

A few days later, when the Anastasia text was laid out and 
sent to the printer, the cold returned and newspapers were re- 
plete with stories of ice storms and snowfalls, but the feeling 
of a great accomplishment lingered, to take embodiment first 
in the printed book, then in the e-mails and telephone calls of 
its initial readers. Here is one e-mail I received: 

A friend gave me the book Anastasia. I read it today out- 
doors while the sun shone warmly and the birds sang sweet- 
ly My heart knows such an essence as her spirit and I am 
still basking in the glow of the presence.... 

After reading that Anastasia suffered a loss in strength 
after helping someone, I decided to send her distant reiki: I 


2 reiki — a technique of holistic healing combining elements of spiritual heal- 
ing, meditation, balancing of energies, homoeopathy and other approaches. 
The healing process involves transfer of energy {reiki) from the practitioner 
to the patient. While reiki practitioners usually use hands to channel the 
energy it can also be accomplished at a distance by mental concentration. 



238 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


know from experimenting with my kids that it has a healing 
effect. Immediately after sending the distant reiki I ‘heard’ 
her say ‘thank you’. Today I sent her distant reiki again. Soon 
after I was finished, I began smelling the sweetest scent of 
a flower, and the scent went into all my sinuses. My sinuses 
feel different now. I feel such an inexpressible feeling of 
love and joy It is like being in love, but in a totally different 
way If you were here right now I would hug you and let you 
feel it. Thank you for this sweet and precious gift. 

Even as this and other heart-warming messages showed me 
that the book is producing the same response among Eng- 
lish-speaking readers as in other parts of the world, I was still 
wary of the welcome the translated edition of Anastasia would 
receive in professional and academic circles. But the first im- 
pressions shared with me by its early readers — students of 
psychology, Russian literature, forestry, ecology, sociology and 
philosophy — are most encouraging. One scholar, after read- 
ing just the first chapter, asked me if she could have a pendant 
of cedar wood... 

Dr Richard Bolstad, a psychologist from New Zealand and 
author of RESOLVE: a new NLP model of therapy , 3 4 was quick 
to recognise the value of the book for his professional field 
and described the Ringing Cedars Series as “ecological com- 
mon sense and profound wisdom delivered with love, a unique 
Russian gift towards the needed healing of the whole planet 
and the creation of space for love in our lives”. 

Steven Foster, the ‘Echinacea guru’, one of the leading 
experts on medicinal plants in North America, author of A 
field guide to medicinal plants and herbs 4 and other books, after 

3 Williston (Vermont), USA& Carmarthen, Wales: Crown House, 2002. 

4 Several volumes in the Peterson Field Guide Series, published by Hough- 
ton Mifflin, New York. 



Editor’s Afterword 


239 


sharing many of his personal experiences corroborating Anas- 
tasia’s sayings about the spiritual link between Man and Na- 
ture, had this comment about the Series: 

The Ringing Cedars Series will impact a new generation of 
readers, like the works of Carlos Castaneda did for a pre- 
vious generation — only this time through awakening the 
latent spiritual connection each of us has with nature. This 
is not about a walk in the woods, rather these books cata- 
pult us to an entirely new way of being on planet Earth. 

I also discovered from informal talks with my colleagues 
that many foresters have psychic experiences in the forest, 
but keep silent for fear of being ridiculed by their peers. One 
colleague who manages thousands of acres of forest in the 
Ozarks confessed to me in a private conversation that when 
marking trees to be felled he communicated with the Intel- 
ligence governing the trees and had a deep reverence for the 
Life manifest in them/ 

I am all the more happy to hear these accounts in view of 
the fact that they are a sincere expression of readers’ actual 
feelings, rather than a formulation developed by a well-paid 
marketing specialist and put into the mouths of celebrities, 
as often happens in current practice in the publishing indus- 
try. These and all other reviews of the Ringing Cedars Se- 
ries I have received are genuine, they come straight from the 
heart. 

One of the faculty members at the University of Missouri 
surprised me by saying he already knew about Anastasia and 
the impact these books were producing around the world. 


'He therefore removes only the least healthy and vital trees, leaving the best 
ones to grow — the opposite of the destructive forestry practices prevalent 
over the last century 



240 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

It turned out he had learnt about the Ringing Cedars Series 
from his aunt who lived in Germany and had read the best- 
selling German translation. He said she had been so greatly 
impressed by the books that she would call him from Germa- 
ny and read entire chapters, in German, over the telephone. 
This story made me wonder as to how many aunts call their 
nephews on the other side of the globe to read a chapter from 
a book they particularly liked. Not very many, I would im- 
agine. Which means a book that does elicit such a response 
must certainly possess a power to set hearts aflame, regardless 
of the language in which it is read. 

I became even more confident about the Ringing Cedars’ 
power to transcend national boundaries after I received the 
following message from Europe from Nara Petrovic, editor 
of the Slovenian translation of the Series. This is what he 
wrote: 

Without any advertisement the book became a best-sell- 
er mainly by readers spreading the news from mouth to 
mouth. In many libraries the waiting lists were soon get- 
ting longer and longer and in bookstores the sales were 
very good.... 

Thousands of readers in Slovenia and Croatia are more 
than enthusiastic about the books. Whoever has read the 
books and has a vegetable garden was compelled — even 
out of sheer curiosity — to try out the ideas explained in 
the first book. And when I spoke to people they confirmed 
that everything works. One man even called us and told 
us that he had made a beehive according to Anastasia’s de- 
tailed instructions and was amazed at how well it worked. 

One of the publisher’s relatives spent a lot of time in his 
garden even before he read the books. He loved to work in 
the garden and thus had cultivated very healthy and tasty 
crops. But after he implemented Anastasia’s instructions 



Editor’s Afterword 


241 


the tomatoes and some other vegetables yielded so well 
that all of his relatives and friends were surprised by the 
tastiest vegetables they’d ever eaten. 

One lady who lives near my city planted pumpkins for 
the first time in her garden according to Anastasia’s in- 
structions. That year there was a great drought. All her 
neighbours’ gardens were dry, with very little vegetables, 
while the pumpkins in her garden were huge, although she 
took almost no care of them. 

I also have accounts of people in North America who — af- 
ter either reading the Russian version or learning about Anas- 
tasia’s ideas from their Russian friends — have followed her 
advice on gardening to obtain remarkable results. This is very 
encouraging. In the light of how all the ‘incredible’ revela- 
tions of the Series have been playing out in real life, there is 
no escaping the fact that 

Your dream, Anastasia, is entering upon our world, and it 
really seems as though our world is beginning to change. 
There are certain people who feel and understand you — 
they show evidence of new strength coming from some- 
where, and that is changing the world. The world is be- 
coming just a little better . 6 

In this English-speakers are no different from other read- 
ers that embraced Anastasia’s ideas earlier: “The book you 
have written will circulate all over the world and... it will give 
you and others a power greater than mere physical or mate- 
rial strength .” 7 The only difference is that in Russia and other 


6 Book 2, Chapter 25: “The Space of Love”. 

Book 2, Chapter 26 : ‘Anastasia's grandfather”. 



242 Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

countries the dream has been unfolding for a number of 
years now, while America, along with the rest of the English- 
speaking world, is at the very beginning of this radiant path 
which it may now choose to follow. Wes Jackson, a well- 
known proponent of ecological approaches to agriculture in 
the United States and director of the Land Institute, has pas- 
sionately argued in his writings that there is no other possible 
way of development for this country but a return to the land. 
What if he is right and there is indeed no other way? Then 
it is probably not by chance that two of the central chapters 
in Vladimir Megre’s eighth book, The new civilisation, convey 
Anastasia’s vision of America’s future. A beautiful one. 

Even as my family are now packing up, getting ready to 
move from Columbia to a small farm lost amidst the beautiful 
Ozark mountains — with an aspiration, apart from continu- 
ing work on the Ringing Cedars Series, to live their ideas in 
real life — I have an ever-growing feeling of awe at the clear 
realisation that what Anastasia dreamt about is already com- 
ing to pass in America as well. It is coming to pass. 

Within the two months since Anastasia was published in 
Eng li sh there have already been two artistic performances 
of dance and song inspired by her. The dancer — a young 
breast-feeding mother and a future midwife — told me how 
her heart had instantly felt and accepted Anastasia’s essence 
as her own, and how she now feels her presence and support 
on the path she is following. She told me she felt herself sim- 
ply overflowing with the energy of Love and wanted to share 
it with everybody Then, as she described her captivating 
dance and song as ‘butterfly women’, I stared at her in awe, 
experiencing a strange sensation in my heart and head. 8 The 
remarkable thing is that I have a large painting by Alexan- 
der Razboinikov (who designed the cover art for the Series) 
hanging on the wall in my home. This painting — called The 
butterfly dance — depicts Anastasia dancing in a whirlwind of 



Editor’s Afterword 


243 


butterflies and is inspired by Book 3, The Space of Love, which 
has not been translated as yet! 

But The Space of Love is being translated and is scheduled 
to see the light on 23 July 2005, a day on which ‘Dachnik 1 )av’ 
and an ‘All-Earth holiday’ will be celebrated in America for 
the first time, true to Anastasia’s promise: “This holiday will 
indeed begin in Russia. But then it will become the most fan- 
tastic holiday for the world as a whole”. 8 9 

And then, “a wave of warmth will cheer the heart, and over 
the world will be unfurled a new dawn”. 10 I can already see 
the twilight of this dawn. And I know that I am not the only 
one who does. 


Columbia, Missouri, U.S.A. 

Earth Day (22 April 2005) Leonid Sharashkin 


8 At that moment I could very well relate to Vladimir Megre’s feelings — de- 
scribed in the first chapter of this volume — as he witnessed the unfolding 
of Anastasia’s dream and watched readers expressing in art the images and 
scenes from his taiga experience which had not yet been described in the 
books. 

9 Book 2, Chapter 9: “Dachnik Day and an All-Earth holiday!”. 

'°Book 2, Chapter 32: “Title!”. 



ABOUT THE RINGING CEDARS SERIES 


Anastasia, the first book of the Ringing Cedars Series, tells the 
story of entrepreneur Vladimir Megre’s trade trip to the Siberian 
taiga in 1995, where he witnessed incredible spiritual phenomena 
connected with sacred ‘ringing cedar’ trees. He spent three days 
with a woman named Anastasia who shared with him her unique 
outlook on subjects as diverse as gardening, child-rearing, healing, 
Nature, sexuality, religion and more. This wilderness experience 
transformed Vladimir so deeply that he abandoned his commercial 
plans and, penniless, went to Moscow to fulfil Anastasia’s request 
and write a book about the spiritual insights she so generously 
shared with him. True to her promise this life-changing book, once 
written, has become an international bestseller and has touched 
hearts of millions of people world-wide. 

The Ringing Cedars of Russia, the second book of the Series, in 
addition to providing a fascinating behind-the-scenes look at the 
story of how Anastasia came to be published, offers a deeper explo- 
ration of the universal concepts so dramatically revealed in Book 1. 
It takes the reader on an adventure through the vast expanses of 
space, time and spirit — from the Paradise-like glade in the Sibe- 
rian taiga to the rough urban depths of Russia’s capital city, from the 
ancient mysteries of our forebears to a vision of humanity’s radiant 
future. 

The Space of Love, the third book of the Series, describes author’s 
second visit to Anastasia. Rich with new revelations on natural 
child-rearing and alternative education, on the spiritual significance 
of breast-feeding and the meaning of ancient megaliths, it shows 
how each person’s thoughts can influence the destiny of the entire 
Earth and describes practical ways of putting Anastasia’s vision of 
happiness into practice. Megre shares his new outlook on educa- 
tion and children’s real creative potential after a visit to a school 
where pupils build their own campus and cover the ten-year Russian 
school programme in just two years. Complete with an account of 
an armed intrusion into Anastasia’s habitat, the book highlights the 
limitless power of Love and non-violence. 



Co-creation, the fourth book and centrepiece of the Series, paints a 
dramatic living image of the creation of the Universe and humani- 
ty’s place in this creation, malting this primordial mystery relevant 
to our everyday living today. Deeply metaphysical yet at the same 
time down-to-Earth practical, this poetic heart- felt volume helps us 
uncover answers to the most significant questions about the essence 
and meaning of the Universe and the nature and purpose of our ex- 
istence. It also shows how and why the knowledge of these answers , 
innate in every human being, has become obscured and forgotten, 
and points the way toward reclaiming this wisdom and — in part- 
nership with Nature — manifesting the energy of Love through our 
lives. 

Who are we? — Book Five of the Series — describes the author’s 
search for real-life ‘proofs’ of Anastasia’s vision presented in the 
previous volumes. Finding these proofs and taking stock of ongo- 
ing global environmental destruction, Vladimir Megre describes 
further practical steps for putting Anastasia’s vision into practice. 
Full of beautiful realistic images of a new way of living in co-opera- 
tion with the Earth and each other, this book also highlights the role 
of children in making us aware of the precari ousness of the present 
situation and in leading the global transition toward a happy, vio- 
lence-free society 

The book of kin, the sixth book of the Series, describes another 
visit by the author to Anastasia’s glade in the Siberian taiga and his 
conversations with his growing son, which cause him to take a new 
look at education, science, history, family and Nature. Through 
parables and revelatory dialogues and stories Anastasia then leads 
Vladimir Megre and the reader on a shocking re-discovery of the 
pages of humanity’s history that have been distorted or kept secret 
for thousands of years. This knowledge sheds light on the causes of 
war, oppression and violence in the modern world and guides us in 
preserving the wisdom of our ancestors and passing it over to future 
generations. 

The energy of life, Book Seven of the Series, re-asserts the power 
of human thought and the influence of our thinking on our lives 



and the destiny of the entire planet and the Universe. Is also brings 
forth a practical understanding of ways to consciously control and 
build up the power of our creative thought. The book sheds still 
further light on the forgotten pages of humanity’s history, on reli- 
gion, on the roots of inter-racial and inter-religious conflict, on ideal 
nutrition, and shows how a new way of thinking and a lifestyle in 
true harmony with Nature can lead to happiness and solve the per- 
sonal and societal problems of crime, corruption, misery, conflict, 
war and violence. 

The new civilisation , the eighth book of the Series, is not yet com- 
plete. The first part of the book, already published as a separate 
volume, describes yet another visit by Vladimir Megre to Anastasia 
and their son, and offers new insights into practical co-operation 
with Nature, showing in ever greater detail how Anastasia’s lifestyle 
applies to our lives. Describing how the visions presented in previ- 
ous volumes have already taken beautiful form in real life and pro- 
duced massive changes in Russia and beyond, the author discerns 
the bir th of a new civilisation. The book also paints a vivid image of 
America’s radiant future, in which the conflict between the power- 
ful and the helpless, the rich and the poor, the city and the country, 
can be transcended and thereby lead to transformations in both the 
individual and society 

Rites of Love — Book 8, Part 2 (published as a separate volume) — 
contrasts today’s mainstream attitudes to sex, family, childbirth and 
education with our forebears’ lifestyle, which reflected their deep 
spiritual understanding of the significance of conception, preg- 
nancy, homebirth and upbringing of the young in an atmosphere of 
love. In powerful poetic prose .Megre describes their ancient way 
of life, grounded in love and non-violence, and shows the practica- 
bility of this same approach today. Through the life-story of one 
family, he portrays the radiant world of the ancient Russian Vedic 
civilisation, the drama of its destruction and its re-birth millennia 
later — in our present time. 


To be continued... 



THE AUTHOR, Vladimir Megre, born in 1950, was a well-known 
entrepreneur from a Siberian city of Novosibirsk. According to his 
account, in 1995 — after hearing a fascinating story about the power 
of ‘ringing cedars’ from a Siberian elder — he organised a trade ex- 
pedition into the Siberian taiga to rediscover the lost technique of 
pressing virgin cedar nut oil containing high curative powers, as well 
as to find the ringing cedar tree. However, his encounter on this trip 
with a Siberian woman named Anastasia transformed him so deep- 
ly that he abandoned his business and went to Moscow to write a 
book about the spiritual insights she had shared with him. Vladimir 
Megre now lives near the city ofVladimir, Russia, 190 1 cm (120 miles) 
east of Moscow. If you wish to contact the author, you may send a 
message to his personal e-mail megre@online.sinor.ru 

THE TRANSLATOR, John Woodsworth, born in Vancouver (Brit- 
ish Columbia), has over forty years of experience in Russian-English 
translation, from classical poetry to modern short stories. Since 1982 
he has been associated with the University of Ottawa in Canada as a 
Russian-language teacher, translator and editor, most recently as a Re- 
search Associate and Administrative Assistant with the University’s 
Slavic Research Group. Apublished Russian-language poet himself, he 
and his wife — Susan Iv. Woodsworth — are directors of the Sasquatch 
Literary Arts Performance Series in Ottawa. A Certified Russian- 
English Translator, John Woodsworth is in the process of translating 
the remaining volumes in Vladimir Megre’s Ringing Cedars Series. 

THE EDITOR, Leonid SharasUdn, is writing his doctoral dis- 
sertation on the spiritual, cultural and economic significance of the 
Russian dacha gardening movement, at the University of Missouri at 
Columbia. After receiving a Master’s degree in Natural Resources 
Management from Indiana University at Bloomington, he worked for 
two years as Programme Manager at the World Wide Fund for Nature 
(WWF Russia) in Moscow, where he also served as editor of Russia’s 
largest environmental magazine, The Panda Times. Together with his 
wife, Irina Sharashldna, he has translated into Russian Small is beauti- 
ful and A guide for the perplexed by E.F. Schumacher, The secret life of 
plants by Peter Tompkins and Christopher Bird, The continuum concept 
by Jean Liedloff and Birth without violence by Frederick Leboyer. 



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Readers’ poetry 


249 


ANASTASIA’S CALL 
by Eric Dane Mansfield 

My dear, 

why are you so sullen and sad? 

For that is not your place. 

Come and listen to the call, 
to see your original face. 

Dear, all your struggle, and your pain 
is because you have forgotten your name, 
and your own divinity 
Yes, you are the living trinity, 

I-Is-We, 

the One as three. 

This is where your sovereignty lives, 
and peace is what dominion gives. 

There is a voice, 

calling from the very depths of Nature. 
There is a guide, 

that will lead us away from disaster. 

A voice that echoes true, 
for she speaks only of Reality. 

And her mind is not clouded 
by the obscured views of duality, 
and its images of illusion. 

She is living the solution, 
and showing as she calls 
to each from within the forested walls 
of her love inspired domain. 

Is it Christ, Buddha, Krishna? 

Yes, Anastasia is her name. 



Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 

She is the God-Mother of joy, 

and peace is her constant companion. 

She awaits your response. 

She supports your return , 
to the ways of Veda, 
to the Way of Love. 

For Anastasia has risen above 
the lies and games of self delusion. 
Hers is the way of total inclusion , 
and she does not falter. 

She is not special, or distinct. 

She simply knows how to think 
purely, and she lives as Man. 
Co-creation, as-is, 
that is her simple plan. 

Consecration and devotion 
to the standard of Truth, 
if you answer to her call 
your life will be the proof. 

That all she says, 
and all she is 
you are able to be. 

See, Anastasia is our Self 
living completely free . 


April 2007 



Readers’ poetry 


251 


ANASTASIA’S WORTH IS OURS 
by Eric Dane Mansfield 

When I came to the forest 

to discover my Self, 

and repair the broken Earth. 

I first glimpsed Her 
atop a golden tree. 

Yet, I knew not of her worth. 

For to value what is unknown 
is to wander away from ego’s home, 
and I was not yet ready. 

Yet, my inner pace remained steady 

And so many years later on 
I began to hear her silent song 
of Love for all, 
as All is Love. 

She sits atop the trees above 
because she has transcended lies. 

And the light she offers up so freely 
gives illumination to our skies. 

For she is Advaita alive, here come. 

She is a livingVe da, holy song already sung, 
and she calls to those who hear, 

“Come and join me, have no fear”. 

“For we will remain in the forests of joy, 
to plant gardens, raise children, as I, my boy”. 

For knowing how to live aright 
shall end this lingering, hopeless night 



252 


Book 2: The Ringing Cedars of Russia 


Where darkness claims powers of destruction. 
Yet, where Light already created, 
no construction shall stand. 

For from beyond the temporal realm 
comes this illuminated Man. 

Anastasia, captain at the helm, 

her course true to the divine plan 

of inclusion, co-operation, contemplation. 

See there’s no room, for condemnation 
of Truth set in stone. 

Living as Ail, 

come with her and trust 

that you shall not fall. 

For Anastasia is with us. 

So stop, and listen do not fuss, 
or fight about life. 

Accept Anastasia 
as your wife. 

For she is your Self, 
for she is your Self. 

April 2007 


Editor’s note: both poems by Eric Dane Mansfield are © 2007 by Eric Dane 
Mansfield and are used by kind permission of the author. 

The publishing team of Ringing Cedars Press sincerely thanks all read- 
ers who shared their impressions, as well as poetry, songs and artwork 
inspired by Anastasia. The Series’ editor may be reached by e-mail at 
press@ringingcedars.com 




ISBN 978-0-9763333-1-9 


9 780976 333319 


“The Ringing Cedars Series will impact a new generation of readers, like 
the works of Carlos Castaneda did for a previous generation — only this 
time through awakening the latent spiritual connection each of us has 
with nature. This is not about a walk in the woods, rather these hooks 
catapult us to an entirely new way of being on planet Earth.” 

— Steven Foster, author of A Field Guide to Medicinal Plants and Herbs 






mkbm 







English translation by John Woodsworth 

0 Book i Anastasia 
(ISBN: 978-0-9763333-0-2) 

0 Boole 2 The Ringing Cedars of Russia 
(ISBN: 978-0-9763333-1-9) 

0 Book 3 The Space of Love 
(ISBN: 978-0-9763333-2-6) 

e Book 4 Co-creation 

(ISBN: 978-0-9763333-3-3) 

® Book 5 Who Are We? 

(ISBN: 978-0-9763333-4-0) 

0 Book 6 The Book of Kin 

(ISBN: 978-0-9763333-6-4) 

0 Book 7 The Energy of Life 
(ISBN: 978-0-9763333-7-1) 

9 Book 8, Part 1 The New Civilisation 

(ISBN: 978-0-9763333-8-8) 

9 Book 8, Part 2 Rites of Love 

(ISBN: 978-0-9763333-9-5) 



Published by Ringing Cedars Press 
www. RingingC e dars .com 



Anastasia herself has stated that this book consists of words 
and phrases in combinations which have a beneficial effect on the 
reader. This has been attested by the letters received to date 
from thousands of readers all over the world. 

If you wish to gain as full an appreciation as possible of the 
ideas, thoughts and images set forth here, as well as experience 
the benefits that come with this appreciation, we recommend 
you find a quiet place for your reading where there is the least 
possible interference from artificial noises (motor traffic, 
radio, TV, household appliances etc.). Natural sounds, on the 
other hand — the singing of birds, for example, or the patter 
of rain, or the rustle of leaves on nearby trees — may be a 
welcome accompaniment to the reading process. 


Ringing Cedars Press is an independent publisher dedicated 
to making Vladimir Megre’s books available in the beautiful 
English translation by John Woodsworth. Word of mouth is 
our best advertisement and we appreciate your help in spread- 
ing the word about the Ringing Cedars Series. 

Order on-line www.RingingCedars.com ordering 

call / fax toll-free 1-888-DOLMENS details 

or call /fax 1-646-429-1986 see last page 

Generous discounts are available on volume orders. To help 
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books in your bookstore, or to be kept up to date about future 
book releases and events, please email us at: 

in£o@ringingcedars .com 

or write to the Publisher, Ringing Cedars Press, 415 Dairy Rd., 
Suite E-339, Kahului, HI 96732, USA. We also welcome 
reviews, poetry and artwork inspired by the Series. 




The Space of Love by 
Vladimir Megre 

Translation and footnotes by 


Editing, Editor’s Afterword, footnotes, design and layout by 
Leonid SharasHrin 


Cover art by 

Alexander Razboinikov 


Copyright © 
Copyright © 
Copyright © 
Copyright © 
Copyright © 


1998 Vladimir Megre 

2005 Leonid Sharashkin, translation 

2005 Leonid Sharashkin, afterword, footnotes 

2005 Leonid Sharashkin, cover art 

2005 Leonid Sharashkin, design and layout 


All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced 
or transmitted in any form or by any means, except for the 
inclusion of brief quotations in a review, without permission 

in writing from the publisher. 


Library of Congress Control Number: 2005901795 
ISBN: 978-0-9763333-2-6 


Published by 

Ringing Cedars Press 


www.RingingCedars.com 







vi Book 3: The Space of Love 

21. Should we all go live in the forest? 192 

22. The Anastasia Centres 195 

23. Re-creating Shambala 204 

24. Who are you, Anastasia? 217 

Lada’s message. Editor’s Afterword 233 

Readers’ comments 237 

The Ringing Cedars Series at a glance 246 



Chapter One 




There she is! Again before mine eyes flows that mighty Si- 
berian River, the Ob. I had finally reached the settlement 
where regular passenger service stopped, and was standing on 
the riverbank. In order to continue my journey to the spot 
where I could begin my trek through the taiga to Anastasia’s 
glade, I would have to hire a small motorboat. Beside one of 
the many boats tied up along the shore three men were laying 
out some fishing tackle. I said hello to them and mentioned I 
was ready to pay good money for transport to such-and-such 
a place along the Ob. 

“That’s Yegorych’s department. He charges a half-million 
roubles' for the trip there,” answered one of the men. 

I was concerned right off when I heard that someone here 
was already making passenger runs to the tiny Siberian vil- 
lage hidden way up north in the taiga. It was only twenty-five 
kilometres from there to Anastasia’s glade. And the prices 
they were charging! It meant there must be takers. Demand 
creates a price like that. However, bargaining was something 
one did not do in the North, and so I asked: 

‘And where do I find this Yegorych?” 

“He’s somewhere in the settlement. Most likely at the 
store. See over there where the little tykes are playing — - that’s 
his boat. His grandson Vasya’s with them. He’ll run and fetch 
him — go ask him.” 

l a half-million roubles — approx. USSioo at the then current exchange 
rate — an exceptionally high price, roughly equivalent to an average 
Russian’s monthly income. 



2 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


No sooner had I greeted Vasya, a bright-looking lad of 
twelve or thereabouts, than he started rattling off: 

“So, you need to go there? To see Anastasia? Wait just a 
moment! I’ll go call my gramps in a sec!” 

Without waiting for an answer, Vasya went dashing off 
to the settlement. I realised quite clearly he didn’t need an 
answer. It was apparent that any strangers in these parts, in 
Vasya’s opinion, had but one goal in mind. 

I made myself as comfortable as I could by the riverbank 
and began to wait. There being nothing else to do, I stared at 
the water and drifted into thought. 

The River was a good kilometre across at this point. Here 
amidst the boundless taiga (which you couldn’t see the whole 
of even from an airplane), the River had been flowing on 
down through the centuries. What had it carried away of the 
past without leaving so much as a trace? What do these Ob 
waters remember from those times? Perhaps they remember 
how Yermak , 2 the ‘conqueror of Siberia’, pressed by his foes 
with his back against the River Ob, single-handedly tried to 
repel an enemy attack, and how his blood from a fatal wound 
seeped into the River, which then carried off his enervated 
body to goodness-knows-where . .. What did Yermak in fact 
conquer? Perhaps his deeds weren’t that much different from 
the racketeering that goes on in modern times. Probably it is 
only the River that is in a position to judge today 

Or perhaps of greater importance to the River may have 
been the raids of Genghis Khan’s troops? In ancient times 
his Horde was considered great indeed. There is a regional 
centre near Novosibirsk today known as Ordynskoe, which 


" Yermak (a.k.a. Yermolai Timofeevich, 1540?— 15S5) — a Cossack ataman 
(chieftain), credited with heroic exploits in his campaign to open up the 
Siberian wilderness to Russian civilisation. In early August 1585 he was 
killed in a battle against the Tatar Khan Kuchum on the River Ob. 



Just another pilgrim 3 

includes a village called Genghis. Perhaps the River remem- 
bers how Genghis’ hordes retreated with their plundered boo- 
ty, how they seized a young Siberian maiden, while a mighty 
vizier, starry-eyed with love, eloquently begged her to go with 
him of her own free will, with no resistance. The maiden re- 
mained silent, her eyes lowered. All the soldiers under the 
vizier’s command had already fled, while he stayed and kept 
courting her with loving words. Finally he tossed her up onto 
the back of his steed along with a bag of gold, leapt into the 
saddle and made full speed for the banks of the Ob to escape 
his pursuers. 

They began to catch up to him. The vizier started throw- 
ing the gold at them, and when the bag was empty he began 
tearing off his precious medals he had been awarded for con- 
quering various lands and throwing them on the ground un- 
der his pursuers’ feet, but he did not relinquish the maiden. 
With frothing mane the steed carried him to the canoes at 
the shore of the Ob. The vizier carefully helped the maiden 
down from his steed and seated her in one of the boats. Then 
he jumped in himself. But as he was poling the boat arvay 
from the shore he was pierced by an arrow from the pursuing 
forces right behind them. 

The current began to carry the boat downstream. The 
wounded vizier lay near the stern, not even aware of the three 
large rowing canoes filled with soldiers coming ever closer. 
He looked tenderly at the maiden sitting calmly and quietly 
beside him, and fell silent himself — he had no strength left 
to speak. And the maiden looked at him, and then, with a 
glance at the overtaking canoes, she smiled faintly at them 
(or maybe at something else), tore the ropes off her hands 
and threw them into the water. Then this young Siberian 
maiden took to the oars. And none of the pursuer’s craft 
could catch up to the boat carrying her and the wounded 
vizier. 



4 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


To what place and into what age did the River current carry 
them? And what might the muddied waters of the River be 
carrying off at this moment in their memory of us? 

Perhaps, dear River, you consider our big cities to be im- 
portant? A huge city, Novosibirsk , 3 stands on the banks of 
the Ob, closer to its source in the south. Can you feel its great 
size and majesty, dear River? Of course, there’s no doubt you 
would have a great deal to tell about it — you would say it 
pours a lot of pollution into you so that your once life-giving 
waters are no longer drinkable. But what can we do about 
it — where are we going to channel the waste from all the fac- 
tories? After all, we, unlike our forebears, are in the process 
of developing. We have a lot of scientists working in the mul- 
titude of academic centres around Novosibirsk. And if we 
don’t channel our waste into you, we shan’t survive ourselves. 
And so the stench has made it hard to breathe in the city, and 
in some districts the smell is so bad and nobody even knows 
what it’s from. Try to make sense of all this, dear River. Do 
you know — the technology we have today?! Instead of noise- 
less canoes, it’s diesel ships that are now plying your waters. 
Including, at one time, my own. 

I wonder whether the River remembers me. How I sailed 
up and down it on my ship — the largest passenger vessel in 
our fleet. It wasn’t new, of course, the ship, and at full speed 
all its diesel engines and propellers made such a roar that it 
was even hard to hear the music in the bar. 

What does the River cherish in its memory as the most 
important thing? In times past I would watch its shores from 
the upper deck of my ship, from the windows of the bar at the 
stern, listening to Malinin’s 4 songs and romances: 


3 Novosibirsk — with a population of a million and a half, Siberia’s largest city and 

major industrial, cultural and academic centre. It began in the 1890s as a major 
hub at the point where the Trans-Siberian Railway crossed the mighty Ob. 



Just another pilgrim 


5 


I was going to the city upon a white steed 

When a pub-mistress smiled at me sweetly indeed. 

Having caught on the bridge the old miller's sly glance , 

1 remained the whole night with that mistress, entranced. 

The people busy with their activities along the shore 
seemed at the time to me petty and insignificant. Now I was 
one of them. 

Another thing I thought about was how to convince 
Anastasia not to prevent me from communicating with my 
son. The situation was a strange one indeed, the way it had 
turned out. All my life I dreamt of having a son. I pictured 
how I would play with him as a little tyke, and then how I 
would raise him. When my son grew up, he would be a great 
help to me. We’d be business partners. 

Now I have a son. And even though he’s not around, it’s 
still a jolly thing to know that somewhere on Earth there’s a 
human being as close to you as that, your own flesh and blood, 
someone you very much wanted. 

Before leaving I took great delight in purchasing for my son 
all sorts of basic kiddie things. Anyway, I went and bought 
them, sure, but whether or not I’ll be able to give them to 
him — well, that’s still a question mark. If my son had been 
borne by an ordinary woman — it wouldn’t matter whether 
she were a country or a city girl — it would all be so simple 
and straightforward. Any woman would be delighted that her 
child’s father was concerned and really trying to provide him 
with everything he needed, and take part in his upbringing. 


4 Alexander Nikolaevich Malinin (1958-) — a popular Russian singer-song- 
writer from Sverdlovsk (now Ekaterinburg), a large industrial city in the 
Urals. Famous for his masterfully performed romances, in 1998 he was hon- 
oured with the title People’s artist of Russia. The verse here is the first stanza 
of his song Bely km (White Steed). 



6 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


In fact, if he didn’t do this voluntarily, a lot of women would 
be applying for alimony 

But Anastasia was a taiga recluse with her own views on life 
and her own understanding of values. Even before our son’s 
birth she made it clear to me: 

“He doesn’t need any material goods in your sense of the 
term. He will have everything he needs right from the start. 
Ebu have the desire to give our baby some sort of senseless 
trinkets, which he doesn’t need at all. You are the one who 
needs them for your own self-satisfaction, so you can say: 
‘Look at how good and attentive I am!”’ 

Why on earth would she say something like that — “He 
doesn’t need any material goods”? Come on, now! What can 
a parent give his newborn child, then? Especially a father? 
It’s still too early to start raising a breast-feeding infant in a 
fatherly way. Flow then can I express my relationship to him? 
How can I show him I care for him? A mother can breast-feed 
her baby, it’s easier for her, she’s already doing something, but 
what can a father do? In civilised circumstances he can help 
around the house, fix things up, take financial care of his fam- 
ily. But Anastasia doesn’t need anything like that. All she has 
is her glade in the taiga. Her ‘household’ takes care of itself 
and waits on her hand and foot, which means the boy will get 
the same treatment once he’s seen as coming from her. 

I wonder how much it would cost to buy that kind of serv- 
ice? Sure, one can purchase or get a long-term lease on a few 
hectares of land easy enough, but what price can you put on 
the love and loyalty of a she-wolf, a she-bear, bugs and an eagle? 
Maybe Anastasia doesn’t need any of the accomplishments of 
our civilisation, but why should the child have to suffer for his 
mother’s crazy world-view? The child can’t even have normal 
toys! She sees everything her own way “The child doesn’t 
need senseless trinkets, they’ll only do him harm, distract him 
from the truth,” she says. 



Just another pilgrim 


7 


Maybe in what she says there is some sort of quirky exag- 
geration or even downright superstition. There must be some 
reason mankind has invented so many different toys for kids! 
But so as not to quarrel with Anastasia, I didn’t buy him any 
rattles — instead I got him a kiddie’s constructor set, where 
the label on the box reads: “Develops children’s intellect”. 
Along with a quantity of disposable diapers, which the whole 
world uses today. And I bought a whole lot of powdered baby 
food. I’m really amazed at how easy they’ve made it. You 
open the box and there’s a hermetically sealed package of wa- 
terproof foil. Y)u just take a pair of scissors, cut open the 
packet, pour the contents into warm water, stir and... presto, 
it’s all ready. They’ve got all sorts of powders — buckwheat, 
rice and other cereal grains. 

The box says it has all sorts of vitamin additives. I remem- 
ber, back when my daughter Polina was really little, having 
to go every day to the ‘children’s kitchen’, 5 and now all you 
need do is buy a bunch of boxes and you can feed your own 
child with no trouble whatsoever. You don’t even have to heat 
it up. Just dissolve in water, and that’s it. I knew Anastasia 
didn’t boil herself any water, and so, before buying up a whole 
lot, I bought a single box and tried adding the contents to 
water at room temperature — and it worked. I tried tasting 
it. It tasted normal — hardly any flavour, because there was 
no salt, but likely that’s the way it should be for kids. 

I decided Anastasia wouldn’t be able to come up with any 
arguments against this powder. It would be silly to say no to 
a convenience like that. And that means she’ll have to start 
showing a little respect to our technocratic world. It doesn’t 
just produce weapons, it thinks about children too. 

5 ‘ children’s kitchen’ (Russian: domovaya kukhnia) — a government-subsidised 
community canteen where parents (particularly mothers who were not 
breast-feeding) could go to get fresh dairy products, specially prepared for 
infants and young children. 



Book 3: The Space of Love 


But the thing that disturbed me most about what Anastasia 
said, especially since it didn’t seem to make any sense, was 
this: she said that in order for me to communicate with my 
son, I would have to achieve a certain purity of thought, i.e., 
cleanse my inner parts. Only it wasn’t clear to me just what 
inner parts I should cleanse. 

It would have been understandable if she’d said I should 
shave, or shouldn’t smoke, when I visited the child, or I 
should wear clean clothing. But she goes and talks on and on 
about conscious awareness and inner purging. And just where 
do they sell the brush that I can purge anything there with? 
Anyway, what have I got inside me that’s so dirty? Maybe I’m 
not better than others, but I’m no worse either. Hey, if every 
woman started malting a demand like that on her man, you’d 
have to set up a bloody purgatory for all mankind! It’s... it’s 
illegitimate, that’s what it is! 

I brought along a clipping from the civil code, where it says 
that one parent has no right to deprive the other of seeing their 
child without due cause, even if the parents are divorced. Of 
course, our laws don’t mean very much to Anastasia, but still, 
it’s a pretty strong argument. After all, the majority of people 
do observe the law. I ought to be able to take a hard line with 
Anastasia, too. We should have equal rights to our child. 

I had thought earlier of taking a harder line with her. But 
now I’ve had some doubts about my initial decision, and 
here’s why Along with everything else in my backpack, I 
had brought along some letters from readers. I didn’t bring 
them all, because I keep getting so many I wouldn’t begin to 
have room for them all. Many of the readers care a great deal 
about Anastasia. They call her a messiah, a fairy of the taiga, 
a goddess; they dedicate songs and poems to her. And some 
of them address her as though she were their bosom friend. 
This flood of letters got me reconsidering my words and ac- 
tions in respect to Anastasia. 



Just another pilgrim 


9 


I had about a three-hour wait sitting beside Yegorych’s boat. 
It was already late in the afternoon when I saw two men ap- 
proach in the company of Yegorych’s grandson. The first was 
getting on in years, he looked to be at least sixty lie wore 
a cloth raincoat and rubber boots. He was red in the face, 
obviously tipsy, since he staggered slightly as he walked. The 
second was younger, around thirty, and had a strong build. 
As they came closer, I noticed streaks of grey in the younger 
Siberian’s dark-blond hair. The elder of the two came up to 
me and said: 

“Hello there, traveller! So, you’re off to see Anastasia? 
We’ll take you. It’ll be five hundr’d thousand for the trip plus 
two bottles 6 surcharge.” 

It was already clear to me that I wasn’t the only one try- 
ing to reach Anastasia. That was why the price was so high. 
To them I was just another pilgrim on my way to Anastasia’s 
habitat. But still I asked: 

“How did you decide that I was going to see somebody 
named Anastasia, and not just to the village?” 

“If you be goin’ to the village or no, you’d better have 
the five hundr’d thousand ready. If you don’t have the right 
amount, we won’t take you there.” 

Yegorych’s tone toward me wasn’t exactly friendly. 

They charge so much for the trip and yet don’t talk very 
friendly, I thought. Why would that be? 

Still, there was no alternative, and I had to accept the terms. 
But instead of being happy at all that money, and especially 
the two bottles of vodka he sent his young assistant to buy at 
the settlement, his attitude toward me only hardened. He sat 
down beside me on a rock and kept muttering to himself: 


6 


two bottles — i.e., of vodka. 



IO 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


“To the village — what village? Six houses with people just 
barely alive — you call that a village? Who needs a village like 
that?” 

“And do you often take visitors to see Anastasia? I’ll bet 
you earn a pretty penny transporting them, eh?” I asked 
Yegorych, mostly to get a conversation going and soften his 
enmity. But Yegorych only answered in irritation: 

‘And who invited them to visit? We’ve got too many un- 
invited jerks barging in here. Nothing stops them. Did she 
invite them? Did she? No, she bloody well didn’t! She told 
one bloke about her life. He goes and writes a book. Fine, 
write a book. But why give the location away? We never did. 
And here he meets with her once, and writes about her life, 
and gives the place away That’s something even females can 
understand: if you give it away, that’s the end of her peace and 
quiet.” 

“Does that mean you’ve read the book about Anastasia?” 

“I don’t read books. Sashka , 7 my workmate here, he’s a real 
bookworm. Anyway, we can’t get you to the village tonight. 
Too far. The motor on the boat’s not too strong. We’ll make 
it as far as a fisherman’s hut, spend the night there. Tomorrow 
Sashka’ll take you on, while I do a bit of fishing.” 

‘All right,” I agreed, thinking it was just as well Yegorych 
had no idea I was the one who wrote about Anastasia. 

Sashka, Yegorych’s assistant, arrived with the vodka. Then 
they put the fishing tackle into the boat, at which point 
Yegorych’s grandson Vasya all but cut the trip short. He start- 
ed asking Yegorych for money to buy a new radio receiver. 

“I’ve already fixed up a pole with an antenna — I’ve figured 
out how to set it up,” said Vasya. ‘And I’ve got the antenna 
wire already. All you have to do is plug the antenna into the 
receiver and you pick up a whole bunch of stations right off.” 


Sashka — like Sasha, a diminutive of Alexander. 



Chapter Two 



“You see what a bright lad I have for a grandson!” Yegorych 
proudly declared with a warmth in his voice. ‘A healthy curi- 
osity, a budding craftsman! Way to go, Vasya! We’d better give 
him some money.” 

The hint was all too clear, and I started to pull out my wal- 
let. But Vasya, encouraged by the words of praise, went on: 

“I gotta listen to everything about the cosmonauts. Ours 
and the Americans’. When I grow up, I’m gonna be a cosmo- 
naut.” 

“What?! What’s thatyou said?!” Yegorych suddenly pricked 
up his ears. 

“When I grow up, I’m gonna be a cosmonaut.” 

“The hell you are, Vasya! You’re not gettin’ any money from 
me for that kind of crap!” 

“That ain’t crap , no way being a cosmonaut. Everybody likes 

cosmonauts. They’re heroes, they show them on TV. They’re 
always orbiting the Earth on their huge spaceships. They can 
talk with a whole lot of scientists right from space.” 

‘And what good does all that chatter do? They’re flying 
away up there, and in the meantime there’s less and less fish 
in the Ob.” 

“The cosmonauts can tell everybody about the weather. 
They know ahead of everyone else what the weather will be 
like tomorrow anywhere in the world!” Vasya continued his 
defence of modern science. 

“So what else is new? You go see Babka Martha . 1 Just ask 
Babka Martha and she’ll tell you what the weather will be 



12 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


tomorrow and the day after and next year. She won’t charge 
any money, not like your cosmonauts, eh? Those cosmonauts 
of yours are wasting Petya’s 1 2 money. Your father’s money.” 

“The cosmonauts get a lot of money from the state.” 

4 And where d’ya think the state gets its money from? From 
where, dammit? It’s from Petya, your father, that the state 
gets its money. I catch some fish and Petya later sells it in 
town. He wants to become this smart businessman, see, and 
the state tells him: ‘Pay your taxes, give us all your money — 
after all, you know, we’ve got a lot of expenses.’ And over in 
the Duma 3 they just keep on fussin’ and fussin’, worse than a 
bunch of old biddies at a well. The way they’ve over-invented 
everything, they think they’re the cat’s whiskers! They’ve got 
all sorts of amenities, their own, clean bathrooms to go to, 
those smart asses, and meanwhile our river here gets dirtier 
and dirtier. You’re not gonna get any money, Vasya, ‘til you 
wash that nonsense of yours right out of your head. An’ I 
won’t make any more trips, I’m not gonna earn good money 
for crap like that.” 

Yegorych, probably because of his drunken state, got so 
angry he was just about ready to cancel the trip. Then he un- 
corked one of the vodkas Sashka had just brought from the 
settlement and took a drink straight from the bottle. After 
lighting a cigarette, he managed to calm down a bit, and we all 
climbed into the boat. So he ended up not giving Vasya any 
money and, instead, kept muttering something into his beard 
about ‘crap’ during the whole trip. 


1 Babka Martha — the word babka in this sense refers to the local ‘shaman’ 
of the village, an old woman held to be knowledgeable in folk medicine 
and weather predictions. 

"Petya — diminutive from Petr (pronounced PYOTR), the Russian equiva- 
lent of the name Peter 

3 Duma — the national parliament of Russia. 



13 


Money for crap? 

The ageing motor sputtered noisily along. It was hard to 
make conversation above the din. We scarcely said a word un- 
til we reached an old hunter’s hut with a single little window. 
The first stars appeared in the night sky. Having finished off 
en route the bottle he had begun at the point of departure, 
Yegorych muttered to his Sashka: 

“I’m-m off to sleep. You make yourself comfy here by the 
fire or on the floor of the hut. When it gets light, take him 
to our spot.” 

Yegorych was already bending over to get through the tiny 
door of the hut, but all at once he turned around and repeated 
with an admonishing tone: 

“To our spoil G-got it, Sashka?” 

“Got it,” Sashka calmly replied. 

As we sat by the fire eating fish cooked over the coals, I 
asked Sashka a question about a phrase Yegorych had used 
which rather alarmed me. 

‘Alexander, can you tell me what this ‘spot’ of yours is where 
Yegorych told you to take me?” 

“Our spot — that’s on the opposite bank of the river from 
the village where you set out for Anastasia’s glade,” Alexander 

calmly replied. 

“So that’s it!” I exclaimed. “Here you go charging all this 
money, and you don’t even take people where they need to go!” 

“You’re right, that’s the way we do things. It’s about all we 
can do for Anastasia, to make up for what we’ve done to her 
in the past.” 

“What have you done to her? And why are you confessing 
this to me? How can you take me to ‘your spot’ now?” 

“I’ll tie up the boat wherever you tell me to. As far as the 
money goes, I’ll give you back my portion of it.” 

“So why do me a favour?” 

“I recognised you. I recognised you right off, Vladimir 
Alegre. I read your book and saw your photo on the cover. 



i4 Book 3: The Space of Love 

I’ll take you wherever you want. Only there’s something I 
gotta tell you... You’ve got to listen calmly to what I say An’ 
think about it. You mustn’t go into the taiga. You won’t make 
it... Anastasia’s gone. I think she’s gone way back into some 
remote part. Or somewhere else — off into the unknown. 
You won’t make it any more. You’ll get yourself killed on the 
way Or the hunters’ll shoot you. The hunters won’t toler- 
ate any intruders on their lands. Intruders they deal with at 
a distance, so as not to subject themselves to unnecessary 
danger.” 

Alexander was outwardly calm as he spoke, only the stick 
he was stirring the embers with betrayed an awkward trem- 
bling, and the sparks flew up alarmingly into the night, like 
fireworks. 

“Did something happen here? What was it? You recog- 
nised me, so tell me, what happened? Why did Anastasia go 
away?” 

“I’ve been wanting to tell this myself,” replied Alexander in 
a hushed voice. “I’ve been wanting to tell it to someone who 
will be able to understand. I don’t even know where to begin 
so’s you’ll make sense of it... so’s I'll make sense of it.” 

“Tell it simply like it is.” 

“Simply? You know, it’s true, it’s all really quite simple. 
Only it’s so simple it’s terrifying. Just hear me out calmly, if 
you can — don’t interrupt.” 

“I’m not interrupting. Give me the gist of it. Don’t drag 
it out.” 



Chapter Three 




Alexander began speaking quietly; the way Siberian people 
do, and yet at the same time there was no mistaking the feel- 
ing of inner tension in the heart of this young Siberian fellow 
already showing streaks of grey in his hair. 

“When I read your book Anastasia, I was a post-gradu- 
ate student at Moscow University. I was interested in phi- 
losophy and psychology I studied Oriental religions, and 
was really immersed in my studies. And then along came 
Anastasia. Not in some far-away land, but right in my own 
neighbourhood — Siberia, where I was born. And I could 
feel the tremendous power, logic and significance in her 
words! I could feel a kindred spirit — something that really 
spoke to me! The foreign theories I had been studying paled 
in comparison to the extraordinary feelings that now welled 
up in me. I dropped my studies and rushed home, as though 
from darkness to light. I really wanted to see Anastasia and 
talk with her. 

“I came home and began malting trips with Yegorych in the 
boat to the place you describe in your book. Yegorych and I 
figured out just where it was. From time to time other people 
would come and want to meet with Anastasia and ask about 
this spot. But we never took them there. The local residents 
had sense enough to realise what was happening and not give 
encouragement to the ‘pilgrims’. But one time we — or, rath- 
er, I alone, without Yegorych — took a whole group of people 
to this place.” 

“Why did you do that?” 



1 6 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


‘“Ai: the time it seemed like I was doing the right thing, 
something good. It was a party of six. Two of them were 
prominent scholars and, from what I could tell, they had con- 
siderable resources at their disposal. Or those backing them, 
the ones who sent them, had considerable resources. The 
other four in the party were their security guards, armed with 
pistols, and something else besides. And they had two-way 
radios. I was invited to accompany them as their guide. I 
agreed, but not because of the money. 

“I had a long talk with them first. They didn’t conceal the 
goal of their expedition — a meeting with Anastasia. Their 
leader w r as a grey-haired, pleasant-looking chap named Boris 
Moiseevich . 1 He realised that Anastasia, all by herself, could 
do more for science than many research institutes. 

“They planned to take her out of the taiga and set her up 
in a nature preserve where she could live under conditions 
she was accustomed to. And they’d guarantee her protection. 
Boris Moiseevich told me that if they didn’t do this, someone 
else would. And anything might happen. Anastasia was an 
extraordinary phenomenon, and they felt obliged to protect 
her and study her. 

“Boris Moiseevich had an assistant named Stanislav, a 

bright young man who claimed to be in love with Anastasia, 
even though he had never met her in person. I agreed with 
their arguments. They hired a small ship from a co-operative. 
They had a truck deliver barrels of aviation fuel to the ship. 

“When we arrived at the spot, they set up tents on a prom- 
ontory and summoned a helicopter on their two-way radio. 
The ’copter was outfitted for aerial photography; it also had a 
video camera and some other unusual equipment. Every day 


1 Boris Moiseevich — Here Moiseevich is a patronymic (derived from Boris’ 
father Moisei), and not a surname. The use of his patronymic here, in con- 
trast to Stanislav’s first name used alone, indicates his position of seniority. 



Uninvited guests 


17 

the helicopter would fly low over the taiga and take pictures, 
one quadrant after another. 

“The two scientists made a daily examination of the pic- 
tures taken from the air. Occasionally they would travel on 
the helicopter themselves to a spot that interested them. 
They were looking for Anastasia’s glade, where they planned 
to land the ’copter. I could only imagine the noise the ’copter 
would make landing in Anastasia’s glade, scaring all the living 
creatures around. I remembered Anastasia had a baby and 
thought the roar from the ’copter might frighten him too. 

“I tried to persuade the scientists that after determining 
the location of the glade they shouldn’t set the ’copter down 
there. I proposed that once they determined the location 
they should draw up a map and go to the glade on foot. But 
Stanislav explained that Boris Moiseevich would find it diffi- 
cult making the long trek through the taiga. Stanislav shared 
my concerns about disturbing the peace of the taiga residents, 
but assured me that Boris Moiseevich would be able to calm 
down both Anastasia and her baby. It all came to a head on 
the fourth day” 

“What came to a head?” 

“It happened when the ’copter flew off on a routine film- 

ing-and-photography trip, and we were busy back at our base. 
One of the guards noticed a lone female figure approaching 
our camp from the direction of the taiga. He reported this 
to Boris Moiseevich. Soon the whole camp was watching the 
woman approach. She was wearing a light cardigan and a long 
skirt, and the kerchief on her head was tied in such a way so 
that it covered her forehead and neck. 

“We were standing together in a group, with Boris 
Moiseevich and Stanislav out in front. The woman came up 
to us. There was no fear or embarrassment showing in her 
face. And her eyes... She had the most extraordinary eyes — 
they looked at us tenderly, with kindness. And we could feel a 



i8 


Book y The Space of Love 


warmth from her gaze. It seemed as though she was looking 
not at our group as a whole but at each one of us individually. 
We were all overcome by a feeling of excitement we couldn’t 
explain. It was as though we had forgotten about everything 
else and were simply drinking in this warmth, basking in it — 
the warmth radiating from those extraordinary eyes of hers. 
And nobody even invited her to sit down and rest from her 
journey. 

“She was the first to speak. And with a calm and unusually 
tender voice she said: 

‘“Good afternoon, people,’ 

‘And we stood there without uttering a word. Boris 
Moiseevich was the first to respond. 

“‘Hello,’ he replied for all of us. ‘Please tell us who you 
are.’ 

“‘My name is Anastasia. I have come to you with a request. 
Please call off your helicopter. It is very harmful for these 
parts. You are looking for me. Here I am. I shall answer any 
of your questions I am able to.’ 

“‘Yes, of course, we’ve been looking for you. Thank you 
for coming on your own. That takes care of so many prob- 
lems,’ Boris Moiseevich began. But he still didn’t ask her to 
sit down, even though there was a table and folding chairs by 
the tent. Nor did he take Anastasia aside to talk with her pri- 
vately He too was most likely distracted by her unexpected 
appearance. He started in right away telling her about why 
we had come. 

‘“Yes, that’s very good... "You came to us on your own. It was 
you, in fact, we had come for. Don’t worry we’ll call off the heli- 
copter right away’ 

“Boris Moiseevich at once ordered the senior guard to ra- 
dio the ’copter pilot to return to base. The order was car- 
ried out immediately Then he turned to Anastasia and began 
talking with her in a calmer and more even tone. 



Uninvited guests 


19 


“Anastasia, the helicopter’s coming now. You will climb 
aboard along with our colleagues. You will show our colleagues 
the glade where you live with your son. The ’copter will set 
down wherever you indicate, and you can fetch your boy 
Well take the two of you to a nature preserve near Moscow 
Everything there will be arranged just as you say. That’s only 
right. Nobody will disturb you there. The preserve is under 
twenty-four-hour guard, which will be reinforced once you 
settle in there. Just occasionally, scientists will come and talk 
with you at a time convenient for you. These people will be 
thoroughly prepared. You will find them interesting to talk 
to. And they will be most interested in your views on certain 
natural and social phenomena, as well as in your philosophy. 

‘“If you like, we’ll provide you with a worthy assistant. 
Someone who will be constantly at your side and can catch 
your inner meanings. In spite of his young years, he is already 
a prominent and talented scholar. Besides which he has fallen 
in love with you even before meeting you. The two of you, 
I think, will be worthy mates — you have the potential to 
become a fine, happy couple. He is worthy of you not only 
because of his scholarship but in his lifestyle too. Here he is.’ 
And at this Boris Moiseevich turned in Stanislav’s direction, 
and beckoned him over. 

‘“Come along, Stanislav, don’t dawdle! Introduce yourself.’ 

“Stanislav came over and stood facing Anastasia. He looked 
a little embarrassed as he started speaking. 

“‘Well, it looks as though Boris Moiseevich has already pro- 
posed for me! I know this may seem a trifle unexpected for 
you, Anastasia, but I really am ready to ask for your hand. I 
am prepared to adopt your son and treat him as my own child. 
I am ready to help you in working out a host of problems, and 
I ask you to consider me a friend.’ 

“Stanislav made an elegant bow before Anastasia, then 
took her hand and kissed it. He presented a most handsome 



20 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


and elegant appearance. And if only Anastasia had changed 
her clothes, they would really have looked like a most worthy 
and attractive couple. 

“Anastasia replied to Stanislav in a tender, serious tone: 

“‘I thank you for your kind attentions to me. Thank you for 
caring about me.’ And then she added: ‘If you really feel you 
are strong enough to share your love and make another per- 
son’s life happier and more fulfilled, then remember — there 
may already be in your circle of women friends someone who 
is dissatisfied with her life, unhappy about something. Pay 
attention to her, love her, make her happy.’ 

‘“But I want to love you, Anastasia.’ 

“‘I am already happy with another. Do not waste your en- 
ergies on me. There are women out there who need you more 
than I do.’ 

“Boris Moiseevich decided to come to Stanislav’s aid. 

‘“That other — is he the one whom you met with, Anastasia? 
No doubt you mean Vladimir. He’s a long way from being the 
best example of our society.’ 

‘“Whatever you say about him, it will not change my feel- 
ings. I cannot control my feelings.’ 

‘“But why did you choose Vladimir to meet with in the 
first place? He’s hardly what you could call either religious or 
scholarly, or even someone who leads a normal lifestyle. He’s 
just an ordinary businessman. How did you happen to fall in 
love with him in particular?’ 

“At some point I began to realise,” Alexander went on, “that 
Boris Moiseevich, Stanislav and the rest of the group had 
one clearly defined goal — to seize Anastasia, to take her 
by any means possible and use her only in their own inter- 
ests, against her will. And it didn’t matter whose idea it 
was — their own or on orders from somebody higher up, 
they would try their hardest to carry out their plan. And 



Uninvited guests 21 

nothing — not even the most persuasive arguments — 
would stop them. 

“Perhaps Anastasia understood this, too. She could hard- 
ly be ignorant or unaware of their intentions. And still she 
continued treating the men standing before her as kind and 
decent people, even as friends. She spoke sincerely and forth- 
rightly on the most sacred of topics, and it was her attitude 
and sincerity which restrained, or rather forestalled, violence. 
She was so ingenious at countering Boris Moiseevich’s and 
Stanislav’s attempts to cool her feelings toward you that she 
showed all their arguments against you to be patently absurd. 

“People say a woman in love sees only the good in the one 
she loves, no matter what he does or who he may really be. 
But her arguments were of quite a different sort. After the 
first flurry of excitement over Anastasia’s appearance had 
passed, I was able to quietly switch on my tape recorder. 

“Later I would often listen and analyse what Anastasia said. 
I remember it all. And that ‘all’ was enough to turn my whole 
consciousness upside down.” 

“What turned your consciousness upside down?” I queried, 
wondering what Anastasia had said about me. And Alexander 
went on: 

“When Boris Moiseevich asked: ‘How did you happen to 
fall in love with him in particular?’, Anastasia countered with 
a simple, direct reply: 

‘“There is no point in asking me a question like that. 
Nobody who is in love can explain why they love the person 
they do. For every woman in love there will be only one man 
who is the best and most significant person in the world — 
and that is the one she has chosen. And my beloved is the 
very best one for me.’ 

“‘But still, Anastasia, you cannot fail to grasp the absurdity 
of your choice. Even if it happened spontaneously, it’s still 



22 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


absurd. That first breath of passion should have been chilled 
by your will, your abilities, the logic of your mind. They 
should have shown you how unworthy this man was com- 
pared to others. Think about it, carefully.’ 

‘“When I think about it carefully I come to exactly the 
opposite conclusion. In this case any further reflection is a 
waste of time. It only adds to the mysterious inevitability of 
what took place. Better just accept everything as it is.’ 

“‘What, accept an absurdity? A paradox?’ 

“‘It only seems to be that way at first glance. You have made 
a long trip here from Moscow You had quite a challenge get- 
ting to that spot on the riverbank. You ask questions about 
my love. But you do not seem to have grasped hold of anoth- 
er paradox — namely that this love can be better and more 
clearly explained by events that happened in Moscow. And it 
would have been better for you to reflect on them right there. 
It would have saved you coming all this way’ 

“‘What kind of events happened in Moscow?’ 

“‘On the surface they are very simple. But only on the 
surface. Right after meeting with me, Vladimir, whom you 
call a simpleton, an unremarkable and even malicious person, 
abandoned everything and left Siberia to go to Moscow He 
went there to keep his word to me — - to organise a fellow- 
ship of purer-minded entrepreneurs. Even though he had no 
money left, he still acted. 

‘“In Moscow there is a two-storey building at 14 Tokmakov 
Lane. That is where the people used to work who were in 
charge of the first association of entrepreneurs. Then the 
people in charge left and the association started to fall apart. 

“‘Vladimir went in there and things started to pickup again 
in its empty offices, both the large and small ones. There he 
wrote various letters addressed to entrepreneurs. He worked 
in his office from early morning until late at night and even 
stayed there to sleep. People would come and see him or just 



Uninvited guests 


23 


turn up and start helping him. They believed in him and what 
he was doing. I asked him to do this when he was with me in 
my glade here in the taiga. I told him how' important it was. 

‘“I worked out apian of action and presented it to him. The 
goals were achievable, provided he carried out the plan in the 
order that had come to me in my dream. He was supposed to 
write the book first. And then use the book to explain a lot 
of things and spread information. It was the book that was 
to have found and brought together pure-minded entrepre- 
neurs. And provide him with the funds for carrying out this 
plan. 

“‘But Vladimir did everything the right way as he saw it. 
He hardly thought of me at all. He realised the significance 
of the plan and put it into practice. Only he did it his way, and 
changed the sequence. 

“‘That way the goal was unachievable. He did not know 
this, and he acted with incredible persistence and resource- 
fulness. Other people who believed in the idea started help- 
ing him. The new entrepreneurs’ association very slowly be- 
gan to sprout and grow in size. It was incredible, but things 
started moving just a wee bit. They were getting together. 
And these were pure-minded entrepreneurs. There is a list of 
their names and addresses — you can go check yourselves.’ 

‘“We looked at this list. It was published in the first edi- 
tion of the book. But I’m sorry to have to disappoint you, 
Anastasia. It will be a disappointment! The list included 
such enterprises as Kristall, a Moscow distillery Its product 
is incompatible with any concept of the divine.’ 

“‘Everything in the world is relative. And perhaps this 
Kristall is not so bad in comparison with some others. Besides, 
we are talking about thoughts pure enough to change every- 
thing. Today’s reality is the result of yesterday’s thinking.’ 

“‘I can agree with what you are saying there. Still, your 
Vladimir failed to organise a fellowship of pure-minded 



24 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


entrepreneurs. I assure you, Anastasia, you’ve pinned your 
hopes on the wrong man.’ 

“After changing the sequence of events, Vladimir was un- 
able to reach his goal. He did not have even the slightest 
opportunity or any funds to circulate information beyond 
Moscow. He came up against adverse circumstances and 
he lost the offices where he could have continued his work, 
he lost his means of communication as well as his sleeping 
quarters. He left the building in Tokmakov Lane, along with 
the little group of local people who were helping him. He 
could not afford to pay his assistants for their work. He left 
without a kopeck to his name. He had no place to live and 
not even any winter clothing. He had forsaken his family and 
been forsaken by his family And do you know what he talked 
about with his little group of helpers as they headed for the 
metro along the icy streets? He talked about starting every- 
thing again from scratch. Even under those conditions he was 
working out a plan, trying to get something going. After all, 
he is an entrepreneur. They, his helpers, followed him; they 
listened to him and believed him. They loved him.’ 

‘“What for, if I may ask?’ 

“‘You go ask them, these Moscow people, what for — 

ask them what they found in him. Go to the building on 
Tokmakov Lane and ask the security guards there why each 
time they came on duty they would bring him some food in 
jars or wrapped in cloth, to give him a decent supper. They 
tried to do it in such a way so as not to offend him with their 
charity These burly security guards, who did not have to an- 
swer to him, cooked borshch and other kinds of soup at home 
and brought it to him so he could have something of a home- 
made meal. They loved him. Why? 

‘“When you visit that building, go have a talk with the 
pretty woman who used to work as a secretary there. She is 
a former actress, she played the lead as the land alien-girl in 



Uninvited guests 


2 5 


the film Cherez ternii k zvyozdam (Through the thorns to the 
stars ). 2 She played her very well. It was a good film, calling 
upon people to care for and love the Earth. Ask her why she, 
an employee of another firm in the same building, tried to 
help Vladimir inconspicuously — and she did help him. She 
was not his secretary, but she helped him. Why did she en- 
deavour to bring my beloved coffee or tea for his lunch? She 
made it look as though it were her firm which was supply- 
ing her with the sugar, tea and biscuits. In fact she brought 
everything from her own home. She was not rich. She loved 
him. Why? 

“At the same time he, Vladimir, was still losing his strength, 
he was dying. He was physically exhausted. But even on 
death’s doorstep he kept trying to reach his goal. He is an 
entrepreneur, after all. And his spirit is strong.’ 

‘“Anastasia, you’re talking in metaphors. What do you 
mean when you say he was dying? In an allegorical sense?”’ 

“‘In a literal sense. When he was in Moscow, his flesh was 
just about dead for several days in a row. People in such a con- 
dition usually lie motionless. But he was up and about.’ 

“‘Possibly thanks to you, Anastasia?’ 

“‘All during those forty-two terrible hours I never ceased 

warming him with my ray, not even for a moment. But it was 
not enough. My ray could not retain life in a body if the spirit 
were weakening. But Vladimir’s spirit was fighting back. In 
its struggles his spirit did not notice death approaching. It 
helped the ray Then other little rays came to the aid of my 
ray. They were altogether weak and unconscious, but they 
were there. These were the rays of those around Vladimir in 
Moscow — people who loved him. 

" Through the thorns to the stars — a 1980 Russian science-fiction film, direct- 
ed by Richard Viktorov, starring Yelena Metyolkina as the cloned alien Niya 
from the planet Dessa, rescued from a stranded alien spaceship by Russian 
cosmonauts. 



26 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


“‘His practically dead flesh began to be filled with life. 
When confronted by sincere love, if it is strong enough, death 
retreats. The immortality of Man 3 is in love, in his ability to 
ignite love within himself.’ 4 

‘“I say, Anastasia: dead flesh can’t walk about. You’re still 
speaking in allegories, not scientifically’ 

“‘The criteria of human science are always temporary. 
There are truths that are valid beyond the present moment.’ 

“‘But how then can modern scientists be convinced? We 
need results from objective measuring devices.’ 

“‘Fine. Go to the Kursk Terminal. 5 There’s an automatic 
photo booth in one of the adjacent metro stations. During 
that bad period Vladimir had his picture taken for an I.D. 
card — one of those small colour prints. You may still be 
able to find it at the building at 42 Leninsky Prospekt. Or 
Vladimir himself might have it. Take a careful look, and you 
will see all the outward signs of a dead body; the automatic 
camera captured even the death spots on his face. But you 
will also see life in his eyes. And a fighting spirit.’ 

“And yet you were the only one who could rescue him, 
Anastasia. Tell me how it is that you ended up spending so 
much of your energies on him? Why?’ 

“‘I was not the only one who came to his rescue. Ask the 
three Moscow students why they rented an apartment for him 
at their own expense? When he finally realised the reason 


"Man — Throughout the Ringing Cedars Series, the word Man with a capi- 
tal M is used as the equivalent of the Russian word chelovek, including both 
male and female, as, for example, the word man is used in Genesis i: 27 (see 
Translator’s Preface to Book 1). 

4 within himself — it is possible that ‘toward himself [on the part of others}’ 
may be intended in the original. 

5 Kursk Terminal — one of the major railway terminals in central Moscow — 
a modern structure with a glass facade, constructed in 1972. It is connected 
to three different metro (subway) stations. 



Uninvited guests 


2 7 


he was failing and set about writing the book, why did they, 
right in the middle of an exam period and trying to earn more 
money wherever they could, spend their evenings keyboard- 
ing Vladimir’s text into their computers? Why? You can ask 
the same question of many Moscow residents who were at 
Vladimir’s side in his times of need. The solution to the mys- 
tery lies in them, not in me. Why did Moscow and her people 
help him and take care of him, why did they believe in him? 

‘“The city of Moscow was also writing the book. I am 
thrilled with that city! I have fallen in love with it! No 
amount of roaring machines or senseless cataclysms devised 
by the technocratic world can nullify the embrace of kindness 
and love from the hearts of its people. Many, many residents 
of this city are reaching out for kindness and brightness — for 
love. Through all the bustle and the clamour of roaring ma- 
chinery they feel its tremendous power and grace.’ 

‘“But, Anastasia, what you say is really incredible and 
overwhelming. It couldn’t happen all by itself. Once again 
it shows the incredible scope of your abilities, the extraordi- 
nary possibilities of that ray you possess. You have evidently 
used it to enlighten the Moscow people who got in touch with 
Vladimir. You won’t deny now, that you did that? And that 
you were the one who made all these miracles happen!’ 

‘“Love is what makes miracles happen. And I did use my 
ray to make careful contact with all those in communication 
with Vladimir. But all I did was to give a bit of strengthening 
to the feelings of goodness, love and bright aspirations that 
they already had. I only strengthened what was in them al- 
ready 

“And the book was published by Moscow The first print- 
run was small and it was a pretty slim volume. But people 
started buying it. It quickly sold out. Far from distorting the 
events he had witnessed in the taiga, it honestly described the 
feelings he had experienced. In the eyes of many readers I 



28 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


came out looking clever and good, while Vladimir appeared 
stupid and none too bright. 

‘“People in their homes reading the book did not take into 
account that Vladimir was with me one on one in the remote 
Siberian taiga. Everything back then was still extremely un- 
familiar to him. And I do not know who else could go so far 
into the taiga with no gear at all. Or how such a person would 
behave upon seeing what Vladimir saw. Vladimir was honest 
in the way he depicted everything. And yet for many people 
he began to look stupid. And here you are asking me: Why did 
I choose him? And why do I love him so? 

“‘In the process of writing the book, Vladimir was already 
turning his thinking around on a great many things. He grasps 
everything very quickly. Anyone who has the opportunity of 
talking with him cannot fail to notice that. But he never tried 
to paint a rosy picture of his former self.’” 



Chapter Four 



c 





“Anastasia spoke warmly about you,” Alexander continued. 
“She knew all about people and events. She told them that the 
first book you wrote came out in Moscow in a small print-run, 
and it immediately led to enthusiastic reviews, poetry, paint- 
ings and songs. She said that thanks to the sincerity of the 
writing, the book preserved the combinations and symbols she 
had sought out in the Universe, and these were what aroused 
the extraordinary beneficial, panacean feelings in people. 

“When Boris Moiseevich heard that, he began fidgeting, 
and abruptly sat down at the table by the tent. I noticed he 
was surreptitiously trying to switch on a tape recorder. He was 
probably so caught up with the pursuit of important informa- 
tion that he completely forgot about everyone else around. He 
didn’t even offer Anastasia a chair, he was so bent on extracting 
as much information from her as he could, and quickly This old 
grey-haired fellow was excited and fired off more questions: 

‘“Scientists in many countries of the world are trying to 
capture the extraordinary sounds of the Universe with their 
costly specialised equipment. These sounds are out there. 
They are known to science. Maybe not all of them, just a few 
for the time being. Maybe just a billionth part of the whole. 
What devices do you use to capture them, Anastasia? What 
equipment will allow us to select the sounds that can exert an 
effective influence on the human mind?’ 

“‘The equipment one needs has existed for a long time al- 
ready It is called the human soul. The attitude and purity of 
the soul will accept or reject sounds from the Universe.’ 



30 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


“‘Okay, fine. Okay. Let’s assume. Let’s assume you’ve man- 
aged to... to find and select from the billions of sounds the 
best that the Universe has to offer, and then recombine them 
in the right way But sound can only be reproduced with the 
help of a device or a particular musical instrument. What’s 
the point of a book, then? After all, it can’t make sounds.’ 

“‘You are right, a book does not make sounds. But it can 
serve as a score, like a musical score. The reader will involun- 
tarily utter within himself any sounds he reads. Thus the hid- 
den combinations in the text will resonate in the reader’s soul 
in their pristine form, with no distortion. They are bearers 
of Truth and healing. And they will fill the soul with inspira- 
tion. No artificial instrument is capable of reproducing what 
resonates in the soul.’ 

“‘How did Vladimir manage to preserve all your combina- 
tions if he himself knew nothing about them?’ 

‘“I took note of Vladimir’s speech patterns. Besides, 1 knew 
in advance that Vladimir would not distort the essence of the 
events or what he heard, that he would even present himself just 
the way he was. But he did not convey all the combinations of 
signs. He needed to carry on writing. After all, he set forth only 
a fraction of what he knew and was trying to make sense of when 
he started to write. He needed to continue with the writing. 

“And he has already been touched by fame. An unprec- 
edented fame at that. It would have taken only a little more 
effort to organise the fellowship of entrepreneurs. But then 
all of a sudden he took another step my dream did not an- 
ticipate. He left his Moscow apartment — on which the rent 
was already paid — to his Moscow entourage, he left to them 
the privilege of receiving compliments from readers, while he 
himself boarded a train and headed out of town.’ 

‘“Why did he do that?’ 

“‘Fie had been wanting all along to seek out confirmation 
of some of the things I had said — scientific confirmation of 



Chords of the Universe 


3i 


the existence of various phenomena I had talked about. To 
investigate them. That is why he decided not to write any 
more for the time being. And so he went off to the Caucasus. 
He left Moscow to see the dolmens in the Caucasus with his 
own eyes — the ancient structures where living people went 
to die ten thousand years ago. I had told him about them. 
I also told him about the important functional significance 
these dolmens have for people living today. 

“‘Vladimir came to the city known as Gelendzhik. In 
the museum there, along with museums in Krasnodar and 
Novorossiysk, he collected material on the dolmens . 1 Then 
he met with various scientists, archaeologists and local eth- 
nographers who were studying the dolmens. He ended up 
with considerably more information on them than was avail- 
able in any one museum. 

‘“Naturally I tried to help him inconspicuously. I used the 
mouths of people who came to see Vladimir to inculcate a 
good deal of new information in him, so that he would have 
the opportunity to make his conclusions. But he also did his 
part by acting quickly and decisively This was after he had 
compared all the information he had gathered with what I 
had told him, after the archaeologists had shown him the dol- 
men closest to the road and he discovered that there were 
others, but that they had fallen into ruin for lack of proper at- 
tention from the local residents. The local people had never 
been much interested in them. 

“‘Vladimir then did something that might seem incredible. 
In three months he managed to change the attitude of the lo- 
cal residents toward the dolmens. They began bringing flow- 
ers. The women ethnographers of the Gelendzhik museum 


Gelendzhik, Krasnodar, Novorossiysk, dolmens — See footnotes 1 and 2 in 
Book 1, Chapter 30: Author’s message to readers”, as well as Book 2. 
Chapter r: “Alien or Man?”. 



32 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


set up a public association, which they called ‘Anastasia” in 
my honour. This association opened a school for tour-guides 
in order to get the right message out to tourists about the dol- 
mens, so they would preserve and take care of the dolmens in- 
stead of destroying them. In addition, they began organising 
new tours, which they called “Excursions into reason ”. 2 

‘“The tour-guides at Gelendzhik began telling everyone 
about the significance of our pristine origins and about the 
works of the Grand Creator — about Nature.’ 

“Anastasia, do you think this was all because of him? Didn’t 
you play a part here?’ 

‘“If I could have done as much as this without him, I would 
have done it long ago. I very much wanted to. It is in one of 
the distant dolmens in these mountains that my foremother’s 
flesh approached its death.’ 

‘“But how? How did one man, a nobody, manage to change 
people’s attitudes in so short a time? And how could he have 
set up such an active association? You say that the local resi- 
dents had access to scientific materials and all sorts of publi- 
cations, since people knew about them at the museums. But 
they didn’t pay any attention.’ 

“‘That is correct: they knew about them but did not pay 
attention.’ 

“‘But why did they then listen to him} How did he manage to 
pull it off? You can’t change people’s consciousness that quickly’ 

“‘But Vladimir did not know that. He did not know that 
consciousness cannot be changed quickly, and that is why he 
acted and, in fact, changed it. Go visit that city, ask the dif- 
ferent people who joined this association. Find out how and 
why fortune smiled on Vladimir. 


"According to the Association’s leader, Valentina Larionova, in the years since 
the organisation was established in [996, over half a million visitors have visited 
the dolmens through this Association alone; the total number is much higher. 



Chords of the Universe 


33 


‘“I was thrilled by what was happening there. The 
‘Anastasia Association”. He agreed to the name when they 
asked him about it. I thought he did it for me, that he was 
beginning to understand me and love me. And he really has 
managed to grasp a great deal, but he has not fallen in love 
with me. He has not done so because ot my many mistakes 
and transgressions. 

‘“I soon began to figure this out. I began to realise that my 
dream was actually coming true. And that people would in- 
deed be transported across the dark forces’ window of time. 
And that people would be happy! What I dreamt about would 
come true, except that my love for him was not to be requited. 
And this was payment for the many mistakes I had made, my 
lack of perfection and my own insufficient purity of thought.’ 

“‘What happened? What made you come to that conclu- 
sion?’ Boris Moiseevich queried. ‘In any case, everybody’s 
known for a long time how coarse and uncivilised this fellow 
is. Believe me, Anastasia, as your senior and as the father of 
a family, I can tell you that your parents would not have ap- 
proved of such a union.’ 

‘“I beg you, do not talk that way about one who is so dear to 
me. Regardless of how coarse Vladimir may appear to some 
people, I know differently.’ 

“‘What else is there to know about him? Everybody knows 
what kind of people entrepreneurs are , 3 and he’s just a typical 
example of the species, that’s clear to all. Anastasia, I must 
say you have a rather biassed opinion of Vladimir.’ 

“‘No matter, it is still my opinion. Besides, your assump- 
tion regarding my parents’ views is wrong.’” 


’Partly because of so many years of communist indoctrination, entrepreneurs 
in 1990s Russia were stereotyped as having low moral and ethical standards, 
interested primarily in their own enrichment at the expense of ordinary 
citizens. 



Chapter Five 




“‘I realised it one morning...’ Anastasia said quietly, and her 
gaze looked as though it were immersing itself in the past, ‘a 
morning when Vladimir was not at home in the flat he had 
rented temporarily. I could not find him with my ray. It was 
the morning of the day when my foremother went into a dol- 
men to die many centuries ago. I always think of her on that 
anniversary I try to talk with her. And she talks with me. 
You people are accustomed as well to going to the cemetery 
on a day you remember your loved ones, to think about them, 
even talk with them. I can do this without leaving my glade. 
My ray helps me both see and talk at a distance, and they can 
feel my ray. 

‘“On that day I was thinking about my foremother, trying 
to talk with her as usual, but I could not sense any reply from 
her. None at all. She was not responding to me. This had 
never happened before. Then I tried to locate her dolmen 
with my ray. I found it. I shone my ray upon it with all my 
might. My foremother did not respond. Something had hap- 
pened I did not know about. My foremother’s spirit was not 
in the dolmen.’ 

“Anastasia, please explain what you mean by someone’s 
“spirit”. What does it consist of?’ 

“‘It consists of all the unseen elements in a Man, including 
certain passions and sensations acquired during the period of 
existence in the flesh.’ 

‘“Does the spirit possess an energy, analogous to any of the 
energies we know of?’ 



The spirit of a foremother 


35 


“‘That is correct. It is an energy complex, consisting of a 
multitude of different energies. After the end of a human in- 
dividual’s fleshly existence, certain of these complexes break 
up into separate energies, which are subsequently used in 
plant and animal aggregates, as well as in essential natural 
phenomena.’ 

‘“What land of power do they have? What is the energy 
potential of unbroken complexes?’ 

“‘They vary from individual to individual. The weakest 
ones cannot even overcome gravitational energy — they will 
later fall apart, no matter what.’ 

“‘Gravitational, you say? The weakest ones? Is it possible 
to see their presence in anything at all? To touch it? Feel it?’ 

“‘Of course. In a tornado, for example.’ 

“A tornado? You mean a tornado which rips trees up by the 
roots and overturns things? Then what kind of energy do the 
strongest ones have?’ 

“‘The strongest? Well, that would be Him. I cannot fully 
fathom the strength of His energy.’ 

“‘Then, let’s say, somewhere in between, something average?’ 

“‘The energy complex of many average spirits already con- 
tains a released mental energy’ 

“‘What would be the strength or energy potential of an av- 
erage complex like this?’ 

“‘I already told you: it contains released mental energy’ 

“‘What does that mean? What can it be compared to? 
How would you define it?’ 

“‘To what can it be compared? A definition? Tell me, what 
is the most powerful energy that your mind, your thought or 
consciousness can imagine?’ 

“‘The energy of a nuclear explosion. No, rather, the energy 
of the reactions taking place at the Sun’s core.’ 

“‘Everything you have named is equivalent to but a tiny 
fraction of released mental energy. As for definitions, those 



3 6 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


are things you think up yourselves to use in verbal communi- 
cation with each other. Not a single definition you have ever 
thought of is applicable here. You can use the ones you are 
familiar with if you multiply them to the power of infinity.’ 

‘“Tell me, what is the strength of your foremother’s energy?’ 

“‘It contains released mental energy.’ 

‘“How did you find out about your foremother? How and 
where did she die? After all, that happened ten thousand 
years ago!’ 

“‘That information — about my foremother who went 
into the dolmen to die — was passed down from generation 
to generation of her descendants.’ 

“‘Did your mother tell you about her?’ 

“‘I was only an infant when my mother perished. I was not 
capable of taking in that kind of information. My grandfather 
and great-grandfather told me all about my foremothers.’ 

“‘Can her spirit be seen with normal human vision?’ 

“‘Partially. If one changes one’s spectral perception, along 
with one’s inner rhythm.’ 

“‘Is that possible?’ 

“‘The phenomenon you know as Daltonism 1 suggests that 
it is possible. You believe it is something beyond the will of 
Man, that it is merely a disease, but that is not so.’ 

“‘You said your ancestor, your foremother, was worthy 
enough to have information about her transmitted from gen- 
eration to generation over the millennia? What makes this 
information so worthy, so valuable?’ 


1 Daltonism — a red-green type of colour-blindness (also known as deuter- 
anopia or deuteranomaly ), named after English chemist and physicist John 
Dalton (1766—1814), who was also a teacher of mathematics and natural phi- 
losophy His theory of colour-blindness was published in a paper entitled 
“Extraordinary facts relating to the vision of colours, with observation” 
(Manchester, 1798). 



The spirit of a foremother 


37 


“‘My foremother was the last from our pristine origins who 
knew what a woman should think about during the breast- 
feeding of an infant and had the ability to do so. Civilisation 
was gradually losing sight of the knowledge people had ten 
thousand years ago, and it has all but disappeared completely 
today. My foremother was by no means an old woman, but 
she went into the dolmen to die in order to preserve all this 
knowledge of our pristine origins. And when people’s aware- 
ness begins to be restored, people will become aware of the 
need to transmit this knowledge to nursing mothers. And af- 
ter that they will help each other learn everything. Through 
her death in the dolmen my foremother learnt even greater 
truths that women need to know.’ 

‘“Why did she decide to go into a dolmen? How does a dol- 
men differ from the usual land of stone tomb? And why did 
she not wait until she was old before going into the dolmen to 
die? Was she motivated by an awareness of her goal, or simply 
by superstition?’ 

‘“Back then they had already begun paying less attention to 
the breast-feeding of infants and women were not offered the 
opportunity of entering a dolmen, even if they wished to. The 
ageing leader revered my foremother and comprehended that 
if he did not accede to her request, the leader-to-be would not 
listen to her at all, and her intentions he might well dismiss as 
mere fancy. 

“‘But the menfolk could not be compelled by their leader 
to build my foremother a dolmen, and so he gave her his own. 
The men did not approve of the leader’s decision and refused 
to lift the stone slab covering the top so she could go in. So 
the women got together as one and all night long tried to lift 
the slab of heavy stone. The next morning at dawn the old 
leader came. He did not do much walking any more, yet still 
he came, leaning on a staff. The old leader smiled at the wom- 
en, said some encouraging words, whereupon the heavy slab 



38 Book 3: The Space of Love 

yielded to the women’s upward thrust, and my foremother 
went in.’ 

“And how does a dolmen differ from an ordinary stone 
tomb?’ 

‘“There is not much difference outwardly. But the dolmen, 
as you call this stone tomb, was a place where living people 
went to die. The dolmen was not simply a religious structure, 
as people tend to think today It is a monument to wisdom 
and the great self-sacrifice of one’s spirit for the sake of fu- 
ture generations. Even today it has a significant functional 
purpose. And the death experienced in one of these dolmens 
was not an ordinary one. Actually, the word death is not all 
that appropriate here.’ 

‘“I can imagine,’ Boris Moiseevich said. A living person en- 
tombed in a stone chamber... That is really extraordinary — 
it must have been an extremely torturous death.’ 

‘“The people who went into the dolmens did not suffer. 
The peculiarity of their death lay in the fact that they medi- 
tated. They meditated on eternity, and in spirit they would 
remain forever on the Earth, and even hold on to certain 
earthly feelings. But the soul of those who went into a dol- 
men to die was forever deprived of the possibility of material 
re-embodiment on the Earth.’ 

“‘How did they meditate?’ 

‘“You are aware today — especially from the ancient 
Oriental religions — of what meditation is. And there are 
teachings today that can help one become acquainted with a 
small fraction of the phenomena of meditation, but not, un- 
fortunately, with its underlying purpose. And today there are 
people who are capable of meditating — temporarily sepa- 
rating part of their spirit from their body and then returning 
it to the body Through the help of meditation in the dol- 
men, even while the body was still alive, the spirit completely 
separated itself and returned many times, while the flesh was 



The spirit of a foremother 


39 


still living. After that the spirit remained forever in the dol- 
men. All alone, it would eternally wait for visitors to impart 
to them the wisdom of our pristine origins. Even if the flesh 
succeeded in living a while longer, it was still cloistered. But 
while it was alive, the spirit had the freedom to travel back 
and forth between different dimensions, which afforded it 
the opportunity of analysing at incredible speed (according 
to your calculations) the truth that was available, as though 
clarifying the truth for itself. 

“‘One who died, or entered into eternal meditation through 
the dolmen, knew that his soul or spirit would never again be 
able to take on a material form. It would never again be able 
to embody itself in earthly flesh, or matter. It would never 
be able to go far from the dolmen or leave it for any length 
of time, but it would have the ability to communicate with 
a particle of the soul of a person living in the flesh who had 
come to visit the dolmen. And if you talk about a torturous 
death, about suffering in general, in this case the torture lies 
in the fact that for millennia now nobody has come to acquire 
this knowledge. The great tragedy of the dolmens is the utter 
lack of demand. That same demand for which. — ’ 

“Anastasia,’ Boris Moiseevich interrupted, ‘how important 
do you feel it is for nursing mothers to have this knowledge 
and ability?’ 

‘“Extremely important,’ she replied. 

‘“But why? After, all, mother’s milk feeds only the flesh of 
an infant.’ 

“‘Not only the flesh. It is capable of transmitting a huge 
quantity of information, as well as a keen sensitivity You 
must be aware, after all, that every substance includes its own 
kind of information, its own radiance and vibration.’ 

‘“'Yes, I know. But how can mother’s milk transmit sensitivity?’ 

“‘It can — it is extremely sensitive. It is inextricably linked 
to the reelings of the mother. The taste of the milk can change 



40 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


according to her feelings. And stress can even cause the milk 
to congeal or stop coming altogether.’ 

‘“Yes, that can indeed happen. It can. And you say nobody 
comes to visit your foremother? That means nobody’s come 
over many thousands of years?’ 

“At first people came. Mainly the generations of relatives 
and people living there. After that a series of cataclysms began 
happening on the Earth. People began migrating. The dolmen 
remained where it was. But over the past millennia nobody has 
come to visit my foremother to find out... Now the dolmens 
are all being laid waste. Because people do not know: 

“‘In the taiga, when I first told Vladimir about the dolmens 
and my foremother, he said that perhaps he would go visit her 
dolmen. Then I explained how it was impossible for him to 
comprehend or feel my foremother’s spirit and accept the in- 
formation she had to give. Men simply do not know the feel- 
ings and sensations inherent in a nursing mother. All these 
millennia my foremother has been waiting for women, not 
men, to come see her. But no women have come to her dol- 
men. And I am the only one to communicate with her, once 
a year. And on that particular day I wanted to be in contact 
with her, and tell her something good. But I could not. My 
foremother’s spirit was not anywhere close to the dolmen. I 
had no idea why, and began quickly searching with my ray all 
around, in a constantly widening radius. And then all at once: 
I found her! I found her! In a ravine among the rocks. 

“‘Vladimir was lying on the rocks unconscious. And my 
foremother, her spirit, was bending over Vladimir, taking 
form as a conglomeration of invisible energies. I realised then 
what had happened. I had known even earlier that Vladimir 
was looking for guides to take him to the dolmens located far 
away from the main road. But he could not find any No one 
would volunteer to accompany him. And so Vladimir decided 
to go into the mountains alone. At one point he fell off the 



The spirit of 'a foremother 


41 


path into a ravine. He was wearing ordinary shoes — not suit- 
able for mountain hiking. In fact, he did not have any moun- 
tain gear at all. 

‘“He wanted to be convinced that the dolmens really exist- 
ed, he wanted to touch them. And so he went into the moun- 
tains alone. On my foremother’s memorial day he went to 
the dolmens located far away from the road. My foremother 
did not know why this poorly equipped person had come into 
the mountains. And she kept her eye on him. And when he 
slipped and started falling, she suddenly... Like a supple mass 
of air her spirit swept down to his side. 

“‘My foremother saved Vladimir’s life. While he did not 
actually strike his head on a rock, the many bruises he re- 
ceived in the fall caused him to lose consciousness. My 
foremother used her supple air mass to hold up his head, as 
though supporting it with her hands, and waited for him to 
regain consciousness. That was why she did not speak with 
me. Even when Vladimir’s consciousness returned, she still 
did not go back to her dolmen. She remained in the ravine 
down below. She stayed to watch as Vladimir climbed back 
up to the path. 

“‘Later I realised that my foremother was actually on the 

path, since stones began rolling out of the way. That was her 
doing. She had taken on the form of a supple breeze, sweep- 
ing the stones away from the mountain path. She wanted to 
help Vladimir in his descent. I very much wanted to do the 
same. And so I began to ever so quickly move along the path 
with my ray, so that it wouldn’t be so wet and slippery and 
Vladimir could get safely back to the place he was staying and 
treat his wounds. 

“‘Once Vladimir had climbed back up from the ravine, he 
sat down on the path and examined the sketch one of the 
archaeologists at the Novorossiysk Museum had drawn for 
him. Then he got up and started walking, with a limp. But 



42 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


not downward, along the dry path that had now been cleared 
of stones, but the opposite way: upward. I was shocked at 
this unexpected turn of events, and I believe my foremother 
did not immediately grasp his intentions either. At this point 
he left the path altogether and clambered through a thicket 
of thorny bushes. 

‘“I realised he was trying to reach my foremother’s dol- 
men. He succeeded. He sat down on the portico in front of 
the dolmen, at the edge of one of the stone slabs, and began 
unbuttoning his jacket. His arm hurt and it took him a long 
time. When his jacket was completely unbuttoned I could 
see he had a bouquet of flowers underneath. Three little 
roses. The stems of two of them were broken. The flowers 
had been damaged when he fell into the ravine and struck the 
rocks. Some of the thorns on the stems were blood-covered. 
He placed the damaged roses on the dolmen’s portico and lit 
a cigarette. And then he said: 

‘““Too bad the flowers got smashed. These flowers are for 
you, my beauty You must have been a real beauty, just like 
Anastasia. You were smart, and kind. You wanted to tell our 
women all about breast-feeding children. Only they have no 
idea you exist. And the fact that your dolmen is so far off the 
beaten path makes it difficult for women to get here.” 

‘“Then Vladimir took out a shallow little flask of brandy and 
two little metal goblets, and pulled out a fistful of squashed 
candies from his pocket. He poured brandy into the goblets. 
He drank one of them, placed the other on the dolmen’s por- 
tico, covering it with a piece of candy, and said: “This is for 
you, my beauty!” 

“‘Vladimir did everything people do today at cemeteries 
when they come to see their loved ones or dear friends. As 
for my foremother... Her spirit kept sweeping around him 
in the form of an invisible energy mass. She was distraught, 
and did not know what to do. She tried to show some kind 



The spirit of a foremother 


43 


of response to Vladimir’s words, tried congealing the air into 
the shape of her body, but her outlines were transparent and 
barely noticeable. Vladimir did not notice them. He could 
not see or hear anything. She kept on trying her best to ex- 
plain everything to him, but could only sweep back and forth 
in frustration. 

“At one point her air mass lightly touched the goblet sit- 
ting on the portico and overturned it. Vladimir thought a 
random gust of wind had done this, and joked: 

“‘“Hey, what’re you up to, my wayward friend — spilling 
expensive brandy like that?” 

“And my foremother’s spirit fell still in a corner of the 
dolmen. Vladimir poured some more brandy, placed a little 
stone on top, and then put another piece of candy on top of 
that. And again he started talking, as though to himself: 

“‘“We need to get a decent pathway in here. Just wait a bit. 
There will be a proper path to your dolmen. And that way 
women will come to see you. You will tell them everything 
they need to think about in breast-feeding an infant. Indeed, 
you must have had very beautiful breasts.” 

‘“Then Vladimir started his descent. It was late at night 
when he get back to the place he was staying. He sat for a 
while alone on the sofa in his cold apartment, binding his 
wounds and watching a videocassette. Someone had given 
him a tape to watch which had been copied and passed around 
by people in various places. 

‘“On the tape there was a speaker in front of a large audience 
made up mainly ofwomen. He was talking about God and how 
strong the spirit of a righteous Man could be. Then he start- 
ed talking about me. He said I was an ideal woman — a role 
model to which people should aspire. He said that I had great 
strength of mind and spirit and that I was aided by the forces 
of Light, and that now, once I became familiar with the lives of 
people in the usual world, I would be able to help them. 



44 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


“‘He said a lot of nice things about me. And then, all at 
once... He said that I had not yet met a real man. And that 
the one I had been in contact with was not a real man. Indeed, 
others had been saying earlier that there was a young man in 
Australia who was worthy of me, that he and I would meet, 
and then I would meet a real man. 

“And Vladimir, he... You see — he was sitting all alone 
there, listening to this. All this time he was trying with one 
hand to bind the wounds on his legs. His other hand still 
hurt too much from the bruises. I reached out to Vladimir 
at once with my ray I wanted to warm his wounds, and 
chase his pain away. And to tell him... Somehow tell him... 
Even though he never hears me when I speak to him at a 
distance, I thought, well, this time it might work out... Yes, 
I thought it might work out this time since my longing for 
him to hear me was so strong. I wanted him to hear how I 
loved him! Only him. And only he — my dearest — only he 
is a real man. 

‘“But I got burnt and thrown back on the ground. 
Something was preventing my ray from getting through to 
Vladimir. Once again I quickly aimed my ray at the room 
where he was sitting watching the video, and you know what 
I saw? There in front of him was this invisible energy mass — 
my foremother was kneeling right in front of him. Vladimir 
could not see or hear her. He just kept watching the tape. In 
the meantime my foremother was warming the wounds on 
Vladimir’s legs with her breath, as he was pouring this terri- 
bly painful cologne on his wounds. And my foremother tried 
speaking to him, but he was unable to hear. 

‘“My foremother is so strong in spirit that nothing invisible 
could penetrate her. Any psychotropic weapons trained on 
her will explode. She will hardly pay them any attention. In 
any case any attack will be repelled. And there was no way I 
could interfere. I could only watch... 



The spirit of a foremother 


45 


“‘I watched and began thinking ever so quickly What had 
happened? How did a situation like this come about? Why 
was the speaker saying such things? Did he want to help me? 
Was he trying to explain something? If so, what? Why was my 
ray so drawn to Vladimir? Naturally I was afraid that Vladimir 
might take offence at the words “not a real man” and that he 
would be jealous of another over me. And then suddenly... O, 
how painful it was! It really hurt. After Vladimir had heard 
the whole tape, he simply sighed and said: “Whaddya know, 
a real man! In Australia, I heard, eh? They are going to meet. 
Maybe then they will give me my son.” 

‘“My ray began trembling. It was as though everything had 
somehowgone dark, kbu see? Vladimir was not jealous. Naturally 
that is not a good feeling — jealousy But I wanted to see him jeal- 
ous, at least a little. Just a teeny-weeny bit. But here was Vladimir 
handing me over to another with complete indifference. 

“‘I could not restrain myself and started to cry I began 
asking, pleading with my foremother to tell me what I had 
done wrong. What mistake had I made? Where had I trans- 
gressed? She did not reply until Vladimir had finished bind- 
ing the last wound. Then she told me sadly: 

““AH you had to do was love, daughter dear. To think about 
what was good for your beloved without elevating yourself in 
the process.” 

‘“I tried to explain that I did really want only what was 
good. But once again she quietly said: 

‘““4bu wanted something for yourself daughter dear — pic- 
tures, music, poems and songs! It will all come to pass — your 
dream is powerful. I know It is for everyone and for the one you 
love, too, but now it will be more and more difficult for you to ob- 
tain earthly love, 'ibu are becoming a star, daughter dear. People 
may admire and love a star as a star, but not as a woman.” 

‘“That was the last thing my foremother said. I lost my 
sense of self-control, I screamed and tried to explain, to argue 



4 6 


Book y The Space of Love 


that I did not want to be a star, that I simply wanted to be a 
woman and to be loved! But nobody could hear me. 

‘“Please help me! There is a lot I now understand. I am not 
afraid for myself — I can take care of myself. But it will take 
Vladimir much longer to understand... And in the meantime 
listening to that kind of talk is leading him away from Truth. 

‘“The distribution of that cassette must be stopped. It sug- 
gests to people, including Vladimir, that I am some sort of 
ideal role model, a star, and that someone else instead of him 
ought to be with me. 

“‘I am not a star. I am a woman. I want to love whom I 
myself want to love. 

“‘My path is not determined by me alone. 

“‘I was mistaken. I dreamt things would work out so that 
people would talk about me, dedicate verses and songs to me, 
that artists would draw me... And that has all come about. 

“‘Whenever I dream, my dreams all come true. And this 
one has, too. I am grateful for the verses and songs. I am 
grateful to the poets. But I was mistaken all along. That was 
how I dreamt it. The poems are needed! But I was not sup- 
posed to become a star. 

“‘I wanted all that so Vladimir would look at the images, 
listen to the songs, and remember. So he would remember 
me. But I did not know this when I was dreaming it. Now I 
realise — I am becoming a star. Everyone looks up to stars. 
But it is a woman they love.’ 

“Anastasia, do you realise what you’re asking for? There’s 
no way to stop a cassette from being distributed, especially 
when it’s one people copy themselves. That’s not something 
you can control. Nobody can.’ 

“‘You see? Ton cannot. But Vladimir... He is an entrepre- 
neur. And even if it is said to be uncontrollable, he could still do 
something. But he does not want to do anything. He is resigned 
to the assumption that I am not a suitable mate for him.’” 



Chapter Six 




“Boris Moiseevich,” Alexander continued, “forgot about eve- 
rything else and went on plying Anastasia with questions, 
such as: 

“‘What are the forces of Light?’ 

“‘These,’ Anastasia replied, ‘are all the bright thoughts ever 
produced by people. All space is filled with them.’ 

“‘Can you freely communicate with them? Can you see 
them?’ 

“‘Yes, I can.’ 

“‘Can you answer any question confronting science today?’ 

“‘Many of them, perhaps. But every scientist — indeed, 
every Alan — can find the answers. Everything depends upon 
the purity of one’s thoughts, and the motive for asking.’ 

“‘Could you explain certain phenomena for science?’ 

“‘If the answer does not come to you, it means your thoughts 
are not sufficiently pure. Such is the law of the Creator. I will 
not go against it, if I feel it is not right to tell you.’ 

“‘Is there something higher than the bright thoughts pro- 
duced by Alan?’ 

“‘There is. But they are just as significant.’ 

“What is it? How could you define it?’ 

“‘In a way you are capable of relating to.’ 

“Are you able to talk with Him?’ 

“‘Yes. At least sometimes. As far as I know, I talk directly 
with Him.’ 

“‘Is there some kind of energy that exists in the Universe 
that we don’t know about on the Earth?’ 



4 8 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


‘“The greatest energy in the Universe is on the Earth. We 
need only to understand it.’ 

“‘Can you, Anastasia, give me at least an approximate de- 
scription of this energy? Is it like a nuclear reaction? A vacu- 
um phenomenon?’ 

“‘The most powerful energy in the Universe is the energy 
of Pure Love.’ 

“‘I’m talking about visible, tangible energy, capable of influ- 
encing technical progress, of producing heat and light. And, 
if you like, an explosion.’ 

“And I am talking about the same thing. All your humanly 
established installations, taken together, are not able to sup- 
ply light to the Earth for any length of time. But the energy 
of Love can.' 

“‘There you go talking allegorically again. In some other, 
metaphorical sense.’ 

“‘I am talking in a literal sense, as you understand it.’ 

“‘But love is a feeling! It’s not something visible — it can’t 
be applied, or even seen.’ 

“‘Love is energy It is reflected. It is possible to see it.’ 

“‘Where is it reflected? How is it possible to see it?’ 

“‘The Sun, the stars, the visible planets — ■ they are all but 
reflectors of this energy. The light of the Sun, which gives 
life to everything on the Earth, is created by human love. In 
the whole Universe the energy of Love is reproduced only 
in the soul of Man. It takes upward flight, becomes filtered 
and reflected, and pours itself forth from the planets of the 
Universe as beneficial light upon the Earth.’ 

“‘Do not combustive, chemical reactions take place on the 
Sun all on their own?’ 

“‘You only have to do a little reasoning to realise the falsity 
of such a conclusion. It is like, as you put it, “two-plus-two”.’ 

“‘Can Man control this energy?’ 

“‘Not to any significant degree, at least for the time being.’ 



Forces of Light 


49 


“‘But do you know how to do it?’ 

‘“Myself, I do not know. If I knew, my beloved would al- 
ready love me.’ 

“‘You say you can communicate with Him — - a Being high- 
er than the forces of Light? Does He always answer you? I 
mean, willingly?’ 

“‘Always. And He always answers very gently Because He 
could not do otherwise.’ 

“‘Could you ask Him how to control the energy of Love?’ 

“‘I did ask.’ 

“And?’ 

“‘To comprehend certain answers of His, one needs to have 
a certain level of conscious awareness and purity, which I my- 
self do not have. I do not understand all Llis answers.’ 

“‘But you will still attempt to do something to obtain this 
requited love?’ 

“‘Of course I shall do something.’ 

“‘What will you do?’ 

“‘I shall think. Help me. I need to ask all the women out 
there who have ever loved, all who have or have not been 
loved. They will think, analyse and produce thoughts which 
will appear in the dimension of the forces of Light. I shall 
see them. I shall understand and then I shall help everyone. 
Thoughts in the dimension of Light are always comprehen- 
sible.’ 

“Anastasia, we can’t put a question to all the women of the 
world at once. Nobody can do that.’ 

“‘Then ask Vladimir. He will figure out how to do it, he 
will find a way But he will not do it just for me. You will have 
to persuade him that this is very important for all people, for 
him. If he feels how important it is, he will definitely do some- 
thing. He will find a way of asking all the women at once.’ 

“‘You believe so strongly in him. Why then has he not been 
able to love you in return?’ 



jo 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


“‘He is not to blame. I am to blame. I made many mistakes. 
Possibly I was in a hurry and made myself appear too fantastic 
to him with my abilities. Possibly he is not yet able to appre- 
ciate why his son has to be raised in surroundings that seem 
unusual for human beings — that is, in the forest. Possibly 
I should not have interfered so drastically with his custom- 
ary habits, not have intruded on his conscious awareness. I 
know now that men really do not like that. They can even 
beat women for that. I should probably have waited and he 
would have come to understand it all on his own. He should 
have felt that he is superior to me at least in something. 

‘“But I did not realise this in time. I told him that he could 
not see his son until he purified himself. At that moment I 
was thinking only of our son, about what was best for him, 
and I inadvertently said it would not be good for him to see 
his father as a dimwit. So it turned out that I was the alto- 
gether clever one, and my beloved was stupid. What kind of 
requited love could I dream about after that?’ 

“‘Why then do you need to ask other women, if you are so 
capable of analysing things yourself?’ 

“‘I need to determine whether there really is a possibility of 
setting everything right. I cannot determine this by myself, I am 
so emotionally wrought whenever I think about him. The analy- 
sis needs to be carried out calmly, through reminiscence and com- 
parison. But I have nothing to reminisce about except him.’ 

“And can you talk with him?’ 

“‘I feel mere words are useless. Real love does not come 
out of words. Some kind of actions are required. But which 
ones? Perhaps one of the women will have the experience and 
the needed answer?’ 

“And you are unable to reach him with your ray?’ 

“‘I cannot even touch him now with my ray My foremoth- 
er’s spirit is often right beside him. And she will not permit 
it. I know why.”’ 



Chapter Seven 




“The helicopter was coming in for a landing,” Alexander went 
on. “We all watched it land without saying a word. The two 
crewmen got out, came over to where we were standing and 
fixed their eyes too on Anastasia. A group of armed, robust 
fellows silently stood watching this lone figure in an old car- 
digan standing before them, and immediately it was clear to 
all: they must capture this woman. The only question was: 
what was the most accommodating way to make the capture? 
After a long pause Boris Moiseevich laid it down in black and 
white: 

“Anastasia, you realise you represent a valuable resource 
for science. The decision has already been made to transfer 
you to the nature preserve near Moscow This is necessary for 
your own good, among other things. If for some reason you 
don’t understand the situation and refuse to come voluntarily, 
we shall be obliged to effect the transfer by force. 

‘“Naturally you will want to have your child with you in 
your new place. You show us the location of your glade on the 
map and the helicopter will go fetch your son. Later we can 
capture a few of the animals and transport them to your new 
dwelling-place. I repeat: all this is necessary for your own 
benefit, for the benefit of your son and other people as well. 
You do want to bring benefit to people, don’t you?’ 

“‘Yes,’ Anastasia replied calmly, and right away added: 
‘Everything I know I am ready to share with all people, if 
they find it interesting, but only with all people. Science 
is not something that is available to everybody at once. Its 



52 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


achievements are used first only by localised groups, often for 
their selfish, personal interests. The vast majority get to know 
about only what the localised groups are disposed to reveal. 

‘“Who do you represent? Is it not a particular localised 
group? I cannot go with you. I need to raise a Man, I need to 
raise my son. That can only be done properly where a Space 
of Love has been created. This Space has been created and 
perfected by my forebears, near and distant. It is still small, 
but it is what ties me to the whole substance of the Universe. 
Every Man must create around himself his own Space of Love, 
and offer it to his child. Bearing children without preparing 
a Space of Love for them is criminal. Every Man must create 
around himself a small Space of Love. And if everyone under- 
stood this and acted upon it, then the whole Earth would be- 
come the brightest focus of Love in the Universe. This is the 
way He wanted it, and this is Man’s purpose. For only Man is 
capable of creating such a Space.’ 

“Two strong security men approached Anastasia from be- 
hind, one on either side. It wasn’t clear whether they were 
acting on orders from the security captain or whether it had 
all been planned out in advance. They exchanged glances and 
simultaneously grabbed Anastasia’s arms. They did this quite 
professionally, though not without a certain degree of appre- 
hension. They kept a tight grip on her arms, as though hold- 
ing a captured bird by its outspread wings. 

“The security captain was a stocky fellow, his hair cut 
real short. He stepped out in front and stood beside Boris 
Moiseevich. Anastasia’s face showed no sign of fear. But she 
was no longer looking at us. Pier head was slightly inclined 
toward the ground, her eyelids were lowered, hiding her gaze. 
And she began to speak without raising her eyes, with the 
same calm and gentleness in her voice as before. 

‘“Please do not use force. It is dangerous.’ 

“‘For whom?’ the security captain enquired in a raspy voice. 



Assault! 


53 


‘“For you. And it would be unpleasant for me.’ 

“Boris Moiseevich tried to restrain what may have been ei- 
ther his fear or his excitement. Fie asked Anastasia: 

“‘Can you cause us physical pain using supernatural abilities?’ 

‘“I am Man. A Man, like anybody else. But I am worried. 
Worry may allow undesirable things to happen.’ 

“‘Such as?’ 

“‘Matter... cells... atoms... nuclei... nuclear particles in 
chaotic movement... You know about them. If one visual- 
ises them vividly and in full detail, perceives and understands 
them properly, and then uses the full powers of one’s imagi- 
nation to extract from the nucleus even a single chaotically 
moving particle, then the matter begins... begins to...’ 

‘Anastasia turned her head to one side, lifted her eyelids 
just slightly and fixed her gaze on a stone lying on the ground. 
The stone immediately began to break apart into small parti- 
cles and before long was transformed into a pile of sand. Then 
she raised her gaze to the security captain, squinting her eyes 
into a concentrated stare. Steam began to escape from the tip 
of the security captain’s left ear. The tendon slowly, millime- 
tre by millimetre, began to disappear, and suddenly the young 
guard standing beside him went white with fear and drew his 
pistol from its holster. He did it automatically, like a profes- 
sional soldier, without thinking. He aimed the pistol directly 
at Anastasia and discharged the whole cartridge. 

“No doubt the thoughts of each one of us at that moment 
were racing at top speed, and something happened which 
you occasionally hear about with soldiers in wartime, when 
in extreme conditions they see a grenade or a bullet in mo- 
tion. And even though the grenade or bullet is flying at its 
usual speed, the acceleration of one’s thinking and perceptive 
faculties causes it to be seen as in slow motion. 

“I watched as the bullets from the frightened security 
guard’s gun flew at Anastasia one after another. The first 



54 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


bullet grazed her temple. The rest of the bullets never reached 
her — they dissolved into dust while still in flight, just like the 
stone which she had trained her gaze upon earlier. 

“We all stood there stupefied. We stood and watched as a 
stream of blood flowed down Anastasia’s cheek from under 
her kerchief. 

“The guards holding Anastasia by the arms stepped back 
from her when they heard the gunshots, but didn’t let go of 
her. They had got her in a death-grip, and were pulling her in 
opposite directions. 

‘All at once a pale-bluish glow flooded the ground around 
us. It came from somewhere up above and quickly intensi- 
fied. It dazzled us, making us incapable of moving or speak- 
ing. In the unusual quiet that followed we heard Anastasia 
say: 

“‘Please, let go my arms. I may not be able to... Let go, 
please.’ 

“But the petrified guards did not let go their death-grip. 
Now I realise why she raised her arm in a characteristic ges- 
ture when she was talking with you. It was this gesture that 
indicated to someone up above that everything was in order 

and that she did not need help. But this time they wouldn’t 

let her raise her arm. 

“The bluish glow continued to intensify, then something 
seemed to sparkle, and we saw — we saw a fiery sphere hang- 
ing over us, pulsating with a pale-blue light. It was like a huge 
ball lightning. And inside it were spariding networks of hun- 
dreds of lightning discharges. Occasionally they would spark 
out beyond the blue membrane-like hull and reach the tops 
of the nearby trees, or even the flowers beneath our feet, but 
caused them no harm. One of the thin lightning bolts mo- 
mentarily made contact with an obstruction which rocks and 
a fallen tree had made in the creek; it transformed the ob- 
struction into a cloud of dust which instantly vaporised. 



Assault ! 


55 


“The bolts that sparked out beyond the blue hull of the 
fiery sphere no doubt possessed tremendous power of an en- 
ergy we know nothing about. It seemed as though it was be- 
ing controlled by some kind of intelligence. 

“We had the impression of being in the presence of an in- 
telligent being which possessed unimaginable power. But the 
most incredible and unnatural thing about what was taking 
place were the sensations we felt from its presence. We had 
no sense of fear or suspicion — on the contrary... 

“You can just imagine — right there in a situation like that 
we began to feel a sense of calm and grace, as though some- 
thing very close to us, something related to us, had suddenly 
appeared. 

“At that point the pulsating blue sphere soared over our 
heads and seemed to be studying us, sizing up the situation. 
All at once it made a circle in the air and landed at Anastasia’s 
feet. The bluish glow intensified and, like a pleasing languor, 
relaxed us to the point where we simply didn’t feel like mov- 
ing, or even hearing or saying anything. 

“The blue hull of the sphere then emitted several fiery 
bolts at once. They swept over to Anastasia, began touching 
her, as though stroking the toes of her bare feet. 

‘Anastasia managed to free her arms from the languish- 
ing security guards. She stretched out her arms toward the 
sphere. Immediately it rose to the level of her face, and the 
lightning bolts, which we had seen with our eyes turn to dust 
the stones piled up in the creek, began to fondle her arms, 
while doing them no harm. 

‘Anastasia began talking with the sphere. We couldn’t 
distinguish any words but, judging by her gestures and fa- 
cial expression, she was trying to explain something to it, to 
prove or persuade it of the way she was seeing something, but 
without success. The sphere gave no response to her, but it 
was nevertheless clear that it was not agreeing with her. This 



56 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


much was evident, since Anastasia went on trying to persuade 
it with considerable excitement. It was the excitement that 
no doubt caused her cheeks to flush. Still talking away, she 
removed her kerchief. Golden wheat-coloured braids of hair 
hung about Anastasia’s shoulders and covered the stream of 
dried blood on her face. We saw how perfectly beautiful her 
facial features were. 

“The fiery sphere made several revolutions, like a comet, 
around Anastasia’s head, then stopped once more in front of 
her face, and a thousand delicate lightning bolts swept through 
her golden hair, neatly touching each individual strand, lifting 
and stroking them. One of the bolts lifted a whole bunch of 
strands at once and opened the bullet wound in her temple, 
while another bolt began gliding along the traces of the dried 
blood. It was as though the sphere was using the actions of its 
lightning bolts in place of words to remind Anastasia about 
what had happened and to contradict her arguments. 

“Finally all the little bolts drew back inside the sphere. 
Anastasia lowered her head and fell silent. The sphere made 
one more revolution around her and then rose into the air. 
The bluish glow decreased in intensity, and we felt things 
gradually return toward the way they were before, but instead 
of the bluish light a brown smoke now began rising from the 
earth. This smoke filled the whole space around us, and only 
Anastasia remained in a little circle of blue. And when this 
brownish smoke completely enveloped us, that was when we 
began to discover what hell really is.” 



Chapter Eight 




© 



“Old Bible pictures showing the beastly torture of sinners over 
hot coals, and even the most extreme portrayals of horror-film 
monsters, pale like children’s innocent fairy-tales in com- 
parison to the hell we went through there on the riverbank!” 
Alexander exclaimed. “Since the beginning of time mankind 
has never managed to dream up anything that can compare 
with it. All the Bible images and horror films stop at depicting 
all the different ways fleshly bodies can be torn apart and dis- 
membered, which is nothing by comparison with real hell.” 

“But what could be more frightful than the acute torturing 
of the flesh?” I queried. “What kind of hell did you see?” 

“Once the blue glow had weakened sufficiently to allow the 
brownish smoke to rise from the earth and it had enveloped 
us completely from head to toe, we found ourselves split into 
two halves.” 

“What two halves?” 

“Just imagine — I suddenly found myself comprised of 
two component parts. The first was my body, enveloped in 
a transparent skin through which I could see all my internal 
organs — my heart, stomach, intestines, the blood rushing 
through my veins, along with various other organs. The other 
part — invisible — consisted of my feelings, my emotions, my 
mind, my desires, my pain sensibility — in other words, eve- 
rything about Man that you can’t see.” 

“What’s the difference whether the parts are together or 
separated, as long as it’s still you? What happened to you that 
was so awful, aside from seeing your skin transparent?” 



Book 3: The Space of Love 


“The difference turned out to be incredibly significant. 
The thing is, our bodies began to act on their own, independ- 
ently of our minds, wills, aspirations or desires. We could ob- 
serve the actions of our bodies from an external viewpoint, 
yet our feelings and pain sensibilities remained with our in- 
visible selves, and we were deprived of any ability to influence 
the actions of our own bodies.” 

“Like someone who’s terribly drunk?” 

“Drunks don’t see themselves externally, at least not while 
they’re drunk, whereas we saw and felt everything. Our clar- 
ity of consciousness was extraordinarily acute. I could see 
how beautiful the grass, the flowers and the river looked. I 
could hear the birds singing and the creek burbling away, I 
could feel the cleanness of the air around me, along with the 
warmth of the sunbeams. But those bodies... All the trans- 
parent bodies standing in our group suddenly trotted down, 
like a herd of sheep, to a pond formed by the creek. 

“The pond resembled a little lake, the water in it was 
clear and transparent, the bottom was covered with soft 
sand and beautiful stones. Tiny fish were swimming in it. 
Our bodies ran down to this splendid little lake and started 
splashing around in it. They started urinating and defecat- 
ing in it. 

“The water became dirty and clouded, yet our bodies began 
drinking from it. I saw the dirty stinking liquid flow through 
my intestines and into my stomach. I was overcome with a 
sensation of nausea and revulsion. 

“Then under one of the trees by the pond all at once ap- 
peared the naked bodies of two women. Their skin was just 
as transparent as that of our bodies. 

“The women’s bodies lay down on the grass under the tree, 
lolling about and stretching out in the warm sunshine. My 
body and that of the security captain ran over to the women’s 
bodies. 



What hell is 


59 


“My body began stroking one of the women’s bodies, it felt 
a responding caress and entered into sexual intercourse with 
the woman’s body. The security captain’s approach was not 
reciprocated and his body started raping the woman. Then 
one of the guards came running over and started hitting first 
my spine and then my head with a rock, but it was I, and not 
my body, that felt excruciating pain. The guard dragged my 
body away from the woman’s and started raping her himself. 

“Our bodies soon began to grow old and decrepit. It was 
as though time was accelerating everything. The woman 
that had just been raped now became pregnant, and through 
her transparent skin you could see the embryo taking form 
and enlarging itself in the womb. 

“The body of the scientist, Boris Moiseevich, went over to 
the pregnant woman, and spent some time peering attentive- 
ly through her transparent skin at the developing embryo. 
Then all of a sudden he slipped his hand into the woman’s 
vagina, and began wrenching out the foetus. 

“In the meantime, Stanislav’s body was quickly collecting 
rocks into a pile, then wildly breaking off small trees and us- 
ing them, along with any other materials he found handy, to 
construct something resembling a cabin. My body went over 
to help. When the cabin was just about finished, my body 
tried to kick Stanislav’s body out of the cabin; he resisted and 
our bodies started fighting with each other. 

“Even though I myself was invisible, I could still feel terri- 
ble pain when he started hitting the legs and head of my body 
Our fight caught the attention of the other bodies, and they 
shoved us both out of the cabin, and then started fighting for 
it amongst themselves. My body became terribly frail and 
began decomposing before my very eyes. It could no longer 
walk, and just lay there under a bush, wasting away with a nau- 
seating stench. Worms appeared on my body, and I could feel 
them crawling all over me, creeping into my internal organs 



6 o 


Book y . The Space of Love 


and eating away at them. I acutely felt them gnawing away at 
my insides, and awaited the final decomposition of my body 
to escape from this excruciating torture. 

“Then all at once a foetus emerged from the second woman 
that had been raped. It began to grow right before my eyes. 
Soon the little fellow stood up and took its first timid step, 
then another, then it staggered and fell on its bottom. I could 
feel a painful sensation as it landed, and I realised to my horror 
that this was my new body and it was doomed to survive — to 
exist among these abominable, brainless bodies, which were 
desecrating themselves and everything around. 

“I realised that I, who was invisible, would never die and 
that I was condemned to eternal contemplation and an acute 
awareness of the nastiness of everything that was going on, 
experiencing physical and even more terrible pain. 

“The same thing was happening with the other bodies. 
They decayed, decomposed and were born again, and with 
each new birth our bodies simply switched roles. 

“There was hardly any vegetation left around. In its place 
ugly structures had appeared, and the once pristine pond had 
been transformed into a stinking cesspool.” 

Alexander fell silent. I too felt a sense of revulsion from 
what he had said, but not pity. 

“Indeed,” I said, “you all went through a horrible experience, 
but you vermin had it coming to you. How come you had to latch 
on to Anastasia? She lives all alone in the taiga, she doesn’t touch 
anybody doesn’t ask for housing, she doesn’t require a pension 
or any kind of amenities, so why go interfering with her?” 

Alexander didn’t give any sign of offence to my verbal at- 
tack on him. He simply sighed and responded: 

“You know, you said we ‘ went through an experience’. But, 
you see... It may seem hard to believe, but the thing is, I’m 
not completely out of it. I think those who were in our group, 
too, haven’t fully come out of it.” 



What hell is 


61 


“What do you mean, ‘haven’t fully? Here you are, sitting 
calmly beside me, poking the ashes in the fire...” 

“Yeah, sure I’m sitting here poking the ashes, but that acute 
awareness of something terrible has stayed with me. It still 
frightens me. This terrible thing is not just in the past — it is 
still going with us today, right now. With all of us.” 

“Maybe something’s happening with you, but everything’s 
okay with me and everyone else.” 

“But doesn’t it seem to you, Vladimir, that the situation 
we were in is an exact copy of what mankind is doing today? 
What we were shown in a microcosm and at an accelerated 
speed only reflects what’s going on today in the world.” 

“It doesn’t seem that way to me, since our skin is not trans- 
parent and our bodies obey our commands.” 

“Maybe someone’s just taking pity on us, not letting us be- 
come fully aware of what we have done and are continuing to 
do. After all, if we were aware of it, if we could see our lives 
from an external viewpoint, we’d see them exposed, along 
with all the false teachings which we’ve used through the ages 
to justify what we are doing. We wouldn’t last, we’d go out of 
our minds! 

“We try to put on a decent front, we try co justify the evil 

we do by our own so-called ‘insurmountable weaknesses’. We 
couldn’t resist temptation: we started smoking and drinking, 
committed murder, then we started going to war to defend 
some sort of ideals. We started setting off bombs. 

“We are weak. That’s the way we see ourselves today We 
say there are higher powers — they can do everything, they 
decide everything. But as for us? We hide behind dogmas like 
that and feel we can get away with any kind of filth we like. 

‘And let’s face it, what we do is filth. We all do it, every one 
ofus, only we justify it to ourselves in different ways. But now 
it is absolutely clear that, as long as my consciousness has not 
lost its control over my body, I and I alone must take personal 



62 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


responsibility for all its actions. And Anastasia is right when 
she says As long as Man is in the flesh...’” 

“Don’t go citing Anastasia, smartass! ’She is right!’ But you 
yourself practically had her in the grave. Too bad she didn’t 
go just a little further and then you would all have lost your 
marbles completely!” 

I was really growing more and more angry at the whole 
bunch of them, but since Alexander was the only one in front 
of me, he had to bear the brunt of my anger. 

“Just look at your own self,” Alexander replied. “Wasn’t it 
thanks to you that we were able to get through to Anastasia? 
And not just us — you think attempts like ours won’t be re- 
peated? 

“Whatever possessed you to specify the exact name of 
your ship, even the name of your captain? Don’t play the 
documentarian. You could even have changed the name of 
the river, but you didn’t do it — you didn’t think of it in time. 
And here you expect others to always know the right thing to 
do. I got what was coming to me. Now my whole life I will 
have to keep making sense of that nightmare I witnessed.” 

“Tell me, how did it end, that nightmare of yours? How did 
you get out of it?” 

“We would never have been able to come out of it all on our 
own. It was something we were to go on reliving forever. At 
least that was the impression each of us had. 

“Anastasia appeared amidst our decomposing and still ac- 
tive bodies. Her skin wasn’t transparent. She was still wear- 
ing her old cardigan and long skirt. She tried speaking to our 
bodies, but they wouldn’t listen. They seemed to be prepro- 
grammed to die and be born again, repeating their actions 
over and over with only a change of roles. 

‘At that point Anastasia started quickly picking ttp the 
garbage near one of the structures our bodies had built. 
She quickly gathered the scattered stones and brush into a 



What hell is 


63 


pile with her hands, loosened the earth a little with a stick, 
touched and fluffed up the grass where we had trampled it, 
and the little green blades began popping up again — not all, 
but those that still could, Anastasia carefully straightened the 
broken trunk of a small tree, about a metre tall: she mashed 
up some earth in her hands to soften it and then daubed it on 
the broken part of the tree. She squeezed the tree between 
her hands, and held it tight for awhile. Then, when she care- 
fully took her hands away, the tree remained upright. 

‘Anastasia nimbly went on doing what she had to do. She 
created a small ‘oasis’ on the ground our bodies had tram- 
pled, which had been left almost devoid of vegetation. Boris 
Moiseevich’s body ran over to it, leapt onto the grass and 
rolled around on it, then jumped up and ran off. A little while 
later it returned with the body of one of the guards. Together 
they uprooted the small tree and began dragging stones and 
sticks to the ‘oasis’, where they attempted to put together yet 
another ugly-looldng plain structure. 

“Anastasia threw up her hands in frustration. She tried 
talking to them but, as she met no response, she apparently 
abandoned her efforts at persuasion. After stan din g for a 
while in a dither about what to do next, she dropped to her 
knees, covered her face with her hands, and you could see the 
hair trembling on her shoulders. Anastasia was crying — cry- 
ing just like a baby. 

‘And almost immediately the bluish glow reappeared, at 
first barely noticeable. It drove the brownish smoke of our 
hell into the ground and reunited our bodies and our minds, 
Only we still weren’t able to move about — but this time it 
wasn’t from horror, but from a sweet and pleasant languor 
emanating from the blue glow. The fiery sphere was again 
circling overhead. 

“Anastasia stretched out her hands toward it. The sphere 
instantly changed location to within a metre of her face. She 



6 4 


Book y . The Space of Love 


began talking with it, and this time I could distinguish words. 
Anastasia told the sphere: 

“‘Thank you. You are kind. Thank you for your mercy and 
your love. The people will understand, they will most cer- 
tainly understand everything, they will understand it in their 
hearts. Do not ever take your beautiful blue light from the 
Earth, your light of love.’ 

‘Anastasia smiled, and a tiny tear rolled down her cheek. 
From the sphere’s pale-blue membrane hull fiery lightning 
bolts flew into her face. Carefully and dexterously they picked 
up the tear on her cheek, glistening in the sun, and ever so 
delicately, as though it were a priceless gem, held the tear on 
their fiery tips as they placed it inside the sphere. The sphere 
gave a shudder, executed a circle around Anastasia, landed 
momentarily at her feet, then swept upward and dissolved 
into the blue sky above, leaving everything on the ground the 
way it was before. 

“And there we were, standing where we had been before. 
The sun was shining, the river was flowing as it had always 
done, the forest could be seen rising in the distance, and 
there was Anastasia standing in front of us, right where she 
had been earlier. We stood there silently taking in every- 
thing around us. I was overjoyed by what I saw, and I think 
the others were, too. Only we weren’t talking — perhaps be- 
cause of what we had experienced and the natural surround- 
ings which had suddenly become so beautiful to our gaze.” 

Alexander fell silent, as though he had quite withdrawn 
into himself. I tried speaking to him: 

“Listen, Alexander, maybe everything you told me really 
didn’t happen that way at all. Maybe Anastasia’s simply able 
to use some sort of powerful hypnosis? I’ve read that there 
are many recluses who can do that. So maybe she hypnotised 
you and showed you a vision?” 

“Hypnosis, you say? Did you notice the grey streaks in my hair?” 



What hell is 


65 


“Yes, I did.” 

“Those grey streaks appeared after this all happened.” 

“But you could have got a huge fright under hypnosis, and 
that caused the grey streaks.” 

“'Well, if you assume it was hypnosis, then there’s another 
mystery you’ll have to explain." 

‘And what’s that?” 

“The stone and log obstruction in the creek. It’s complete- 
ly disappeared — the creek runs freely now. But the obstruc- 
tion was there before our ‘vision’ — everybody saw it — it was 
there!” 

“Okay... That’s something to think about.” 

‘Anyway, what difference does it make what happened to 
us. There’s something more important than that. I’m not 
the same person I was before — I don’t know how to live 
notv, what I should be studying, or where. After I got home, 
I burnt a lot of my books written by different so-called sages, 
‘wise men’, teachers from various parts of the world. I had 
quite a decent-sized personal library” 

“What d’you go and do that for? You should have sold 
them, if you no longer needed them.” 

“I couldn’t sell them. I didn’t even think of selling them. 
Now I have some accounts to settle with those teachers and 
sages.” 

‘And what do you think, Alexander — is it dangerous to 
communicate with Anastasia? Maybe she really is some kind 
of anomaly? After all some of the letters I’ve got say that she 
represents another civilisation. If that’s true, then it’d be 
dangerous to communicate with her, because you never know 
what this other civilisation might have in mind.” 

“I think just the opposite is true,” Alexander replied. “She 
has such a feeling and love for the Earth, for everything liv- 
ing and growing on it, that, compared to Anastasia, we look 
pretty much like vagrant aliens.” 



66 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


“Then who is she ? Can scientists say for sure, once and 
for all? How did she manage to acquire such a huge mass 
of information? Where does she have room to store it in 
her head? Where did she get her mystifying abilities? What 
about her ray?” 

“I think we simply have to go by her words here — she said: 
‘I am Man, I am a woman. As for all that information, I don’t 
think she stores any of it in her head. I think, rather, that the 
purity of her thoughts allows her access to the database of the 
entire Universe. And that her talents derive from this total 
access to information. 

“The Universe loves her, but is wary of us, and that’s why 
it won’t open itself to us completely Our thoughts — the 
thoughts of any Man raised in today’s society — are blocked 
by stereotypes and conventions, in contrast to her thought, 
which is completely open and free. That’s why it’s hard for 
us to explain her mysterious abilities simply by her assertion 
that she is Man. 

“Of course she can perform incredible feats — miracles, 
in our perception — I know that from personal experience. 
During our visit one other incident happened which can only 
be described as a miracle. It’s even more mystifying than what 
happened with our group. And much grander!” 

Alexander uttered these last few words with a certain de- 
gree of excitement in his voice. He got up and walked away 
from the fire into the night. In the twinkling light of the stars 
and the dusky glow from the smouldering fire I could see the 
young Siberian lad pacing back and forth. I could hear his 
brief, excited phrases. Alexander was saying something in- 
comprehensible about science, and psychologists, and some 
sort of teachings. I got tired of sitting there and listening to 
his fragmentary utterances. I w'as dying to hear what kind of 
‘grand miracle’ he had seen Anastasia perform. 

I tried to calm him down. 



What hell is 67 

“Relax, Alexander, sit down. Tell me more specifically, 
what grand thing you witnessed?” 

Alexander tossed some dry branches onto the fire and sat 
down again beside it. But I could see he had not fully regained 
his composure. Out of nervousness, no doubt, he had stirred 
the smouldering coals so forcefully that the sparks flying up- 
ward landed on him and on me, causing us to jump up and 
away from the fire. When things had quieted down, I began 
listening to his emotional tale. 

“In the space of some twenty minutes,” he began, ‘Anastasia 
managed to change right before our eyes the physical condi- 
tion of a little village girl. She did this before our very eyes. 
And over this period of time she changed not only the little 
girl’s destiny, but her mother’s too, and even had an effect on 
the whole outward appearance of this remote Siberian village. 
And it all happened within the space of twenty minutes or so. 
The main thing was how she did it — simplicity itself! She... 

“How can anyone believe in horoscopes after that?!” 
Alexander wondered. “I saw it happen! That’s why I burnt 
my books with all that ‘wise man’ nonsense and all that reli- 
gious stuff.” 

“See,” I countered, “you yourself admit that she performs 

superhuman miracles, mystical wonders, even if she smashes 
horoscopes in the process. She makes these things happen 
all by herself, and then expects to be called a normal human 
being. If only she’d tried to act half-way normal, but no!... I 
spoke to her about that, too — I said she should just act like 
everyone else, then everything will be normal, but it seems 
she’s not capable of acting like everyone else. Pity! She’s such 
a kind and beautiful woman, so smart — she can heal people, 
and she’s borne me a son... But to live with her, the way I’d 
live with another woman — well, that’s simply impossible. I 
can’t imagine anybody being able to sleep with her after eve- 
rything you’ve told me. Nobody could. Everybody needs a 



68 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


woman, plain and simple, not a far-out eccentric like that. But 
she herself is to blame for that, what with her mysticism and 
all.” 

“Hold on, Vladimir. Now it’s my turn to tell you something. 
Just think carefully about what I’m going to say It may seem 
incredible, but try to understand. Everybody has to under- 
stand it! Everybody! Perhaps, together, we can make some 
sense out of it. Perhaps... 

“You see, Vladimir, Anastasia performed this incredible 
miracle with the little girl, but there was no mystery or magic 
involved. No sorcery, no shamanistic gimmicks. If you can 
imagine, she, Anastasia, did this miracle using just simple hu- 
man words known to everyone. Simple, everyday words, only 
spoken in the right place at the right time. 

“If psychologists were to analyse Anastasia’s conversation 
with this little village girl, they would realise how psychologi- 
cally effective it is. Anyone uttering these same words could 
have achieved a similar effect. But to have these words come 
to mind at the right time, the sincerity and purity of thought 
Anastasia spoke of are an absolute requirement.” 

“So, it’s not just good enough to memorise the words?” 

“We’ve all known them for a long time — that’s not the 
point. The real question is: what lies behind each of the words 
we say?” 

“Somehow you’re losing me. You’d better tell me the rest 
of what happened with you there. What words could change 
people’s physical condition and their whole destinies?” 

“All right. Of course I should explain. Listen.” 



Chapter Nine 




“After what we experienced,” Alexander began, “our group 
took a while to regain a sense of normalcy. Nobody spoke 
with anyone else. We stood there right in the same spot 
and it was only after some time had passed that we began to 
look to either side of us and take in the surrounding world 
in a different way from before, as though we were sensing it 
for the first time. And now we noticed a group of residents 
approaching us from the direction of the village. The local 
population was quite small, only about a dozen people lived 
in the six houses of this remote Siberian settlement. And 
they were nearly all oldsters, some of them quite frail. One 
woman was bent over double — she walked with a limp, car- 
ried a cane, but she still came with the others. Those who did 
not require a walking stick were armed with various tools — 
one carried a cross-beam, another an oar. They had evidently 
come to defend Anastasia. These old and frail people were 
advancing against young, healthy, stalwart fellows carrying 
weapons. They advanced without fear, determined to come 
to Anastasia’s defence, no matter who might be standing in 
their way 

“Their resolve was terrifying. When they drew near to 
us, the old fellow carrying the oar and wearing rubber boots, 
who was walking slightly ahead of the others, stopped, which 
brought a halt to the group of villagers as a whole. They paid 
no attention to us, treating our group as empty space. With 
a sedate stroke of his beard he looked right at Anastasia and 
greeted her respectfully: 



70 Book y. The Space of Love 

‘“I wish you good health, my dear, dear Anastasia, on behalf 
of all of us.’ 

‘“Good day to you, kind people,’ Anastasia responded, 
clasping her hand to her breast and bowing to the elderly vil- 
lagers. 

‘“The water in the river is dropping early this year,’ the old 
fellow went on. ‘The summer hasn’t been too rainy.’ 

“‘Not so rainy just now,’ Anastasia confirmed, ‘but more 
rain will come, the water level will rise, and the river will re- 
turn to its former strength.’ 

‘As they continued talking that way, out from the group 
of elderly villagers emerged a frail little girl, about six years 
old, with pale yellowish skin. She was wearing an old jacket, 
pieced together from fragments of some adult garment, her 
thin legs were covered by patched pantyhose, and she had lit- 
tle old boots on her feet. 

“Later I found out the girl’s name was Aniuta. She was a 
sickly child, with a congenital heart disease. Her mother had 
brought her from the city when she was just six months old 
and left her with the oldsters, not coming back even once to 
see her daughter. They say she works somewhere as a painter 
for a construction firm. 

‘Aniuta went up to Anastasia and started tugging on the 
hem of her skirt, pleading with her: 

“‘Bend down, Auntie Anastasia. Bend down to me.’ 

‘Anastasia looked at the little girl and squatted down in 
front of her. The girl quickly took off the old white kerchief 
she was wearing on her head. She salivated on one edge of it 
and began to carefully wipe the blood which had already dried 
on Anastasia’s face and temple, saying: 

“‘You don’t come any more, Auntie Anastasia, to sit on 
your little log by the shore. Grandpa said that earlier you 
used to come more often. You would sit on the log and watch 
the river. Now you don’t come. Grandpa showed me the 



When words change destinies 


V- 


little log where you used to sit, Auntie Anastasia. Grandpa 
showed me, and I started coming to it, to your log, myself. 1 
sat there all alone, waiting for you to come, Auntie Anastasia. 
I really wanted to see you. I have a secret to tell you. But 
you wouldn’t come to sit on your log and watch the river. 
Maybe ’cause the log is quite old. I kept asking Grandpa and 
he brought a new little log for you. There it is, lying right 
beside the old one.’ 

“The little girl took Anastasia by the hand and started pull- 
ing her over to the log. 

“‘Let’s go, let’s go, Auntie Anastasia, let’s go sit on the new 
log. Grandpa hewed out two seats on it with his axe. I was 
the one who asked him to do that, so that when you came we 
could sit together.’ 

‘Anastasia at once responded to the little girl’s request, 
and they sat down together on the log. They just sat there 
silently for a while, not paying any attention to anyone. It was 
as though there had been no one else around. And everyone 
stood silently, without budging. Then the little girl started 
talking: 

“‘Grandma told me a lot about you, Auntie Anastasia. And 
when my Grandma died, I began asking Grandpa, and he told 

me about you, too. Whenever Grandpa talks about you, I 
think about my little secret I have to tell you. Grandpa told 
me that when I was little, my heart wasn’t working right. It 
wasn’t ticking evenly One time its tick was way off Then they 
brought in Auntie Doctor in a boat. Auntie Doctor said there 
was nothing they could do with such a bad heart — there rvas 
no one it would obey And that it would die before long. 

“‘Grandpa told me how you, Auntie Anastasia, were sit- 
ting at the time on your old little log and watching the river. 
Then you got up and came into our hut. You took me in your 
arms and put me on the grass outside the house. Then you 
lay down beside me and put your hand on my chest. You put 



72 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


your hand here, where you could hear my heart ticking. Right 
here.’ And the girl clasped her hand to the Jett side of her thin 
little chest. 

“‘Grandpa said that you too, Auntie Anastasia, started ly- 
ing next to me as if you were breathless, since your own heart 
had started ticking ever so softly, just like mine. Then your 
heart started beating faster, and called out to mine to catch 
up. My heart obeyed yours, and together they started ticking 
the way they ought to. That is what Grandpa told me. Did he 
tell me everything right? Right, Auntie Anastasia?’ 

“‘Yes, Aniuta. Your grandpa told you right. Your heart will 
always be good now.’ 

“‘That means your heart called to mine and mine obeyed? 
It obeyed, did it?’ 

“‘Yes, Aniuta dear, your heart obeyed.’ 

“‘Now I shall tell you my secret, Auntie Anastasia. It is a 
very, very important secret!’ 

‘“Tell me your important secret, Aniuta.’ 

‘Aniuta got up from the log and stood in front of Anastasia, 
clasping her thin little hands to her chest. Then all of a sud- 
den she... Suddenly little Aniuta fell on her knees before 
Anastasia. She barely managed to restrain the excitement in 
her voice when she said: 

“Auntie Anastasia, dear Auntie Anastasia, ask your heart 
again! Ask it! Ask your heart to call to my Mama’s heart. Have 
my Mama come see me. Even just for a day. To see me. That’s 
my secret. Have your heart... Mama’s... heart... hear...’ 

“Aniuta choked from emotion, then fell silent, her eyes 
fixed on Anastasia. 

‘Anastasia squinted her eyes and looked off into the dis- 
tance, past the little girl kneeling in front of her. Then she 
looked at the girl once more and quietly stated a fact that 
must have been horrifying for the child. She answered her as 
she would have an adult: 



When words change destinies 


73 


“Aniuta, dear, my heart is unable to call to your Mama. 
Your Mama is far away in the city. She tried to find happiness 
but did not find it. She does not have a home of her own, 
she does not have any money to buy you gifts. And unless 
she can bring you gifts she does not want to come and see 
you. It is hard for her in the city But if she should come and 
see you, it will be even harder for her. A visit with you would 
become a sad and tormenting experience. It would be more 
difficult and frightening for her to see you so sickly and so 
poorly clothed. She would see how the houses in your village 
are falling apart, and how dirty and shabby the house you live 
in is. It would be all the more difficult since your Mama no 
longer believes she can do anything good for you. She simply 
does not believe it. She feels she has tried everything and this 
is what fate has determined for her. She has given in to the 
very hopelessness she has imagined for herself.’ 

“Little Aniuta listened to the terrible truth, and her wee 
body trembled. It seemed to me awfully cruel to talk to a 
child that way. I thought a white lie would have been more 
appropriate here. Like stroking the poor little girl’s head and 
promising her mother would arrive soon. And saying they 
would have a happy meeting. 

“But that is not what Anastasia did. She told this help- 
less, defenceless little girl the whole bitter truth. Then after 
spending some time watching her body shake all over, she be- 
gan talking to her again. 

“‘I know, Aniuta dear, you do love your Mama.’ 

“‘I love... love... I love my poor dear Mamochka,’ the girl 
replied, her child’s voice on the point of breaking into tears. 

“‘Then you make your Mamochka happy You are the only 
one, the only one in all the world who can make her happy. 
It is very simple. You become healthy and strong, and learn 
how to sing. You will be a singer. Your marvellous, pure voice 
will sing together with your heart. Your Mama may meet 



74 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


you in twenty years, and seeing you will make her very happy. 
Or your Mama may come to see you next summer. By that 
time you should already be healthy and strong. To welcome 
her. Get some presents ready for your Mamochka. Show 
her how strong and beautiful you are, and you will make your 
Mamochka very happy, and your meeting with her will be a 
joyful one indeed.’ 

‘“But I will never be able to be healthy or strong.’ 

“‘Why not?’ 

“‘You know Auntie Doctor? She wears a white coat. Auntie 
Doctor told Grandma. I heard her say I’ll always be a weak- 
ling ’cause I was a bottle baby. My Mama wasn’t able to give 
me any mother’s milk. My Mama had no milk in her breasts. 
And children, when they are small, always drink milk from 
their mama’s breasts. 

“T saw it once, when a lady came to the village with a little 
baby I went over to the house she had come to. I really wanted 
to see how babies drink milk from their mother’s teats. I tried 
to sit there ever so quietly But they kept chasing me out. The 
mama-lady wondered why I was sitting there without blink- 
ing. I was afraid to blink my eyes in case I missed something.’ 

“‘Do not you think, Aniuta, that Auntie Doctor might 
have been mistaken when she said you would never be 
healthy and strong?’ 

“‘How could she have been mistaken? She wears a vrhite 
coat. Everybody listens to her — the grandfathers and grand- 
mothers. She knows everything. She knows that I was a bot- 
tle baby’ 

“And why did you go to see how babies are breast-fed?’ 

‘“I thought I would see how good the baby felt when he got 
fed from his mother’s teat. I thought I would see how good 
he felt, and then I would feel better, too.’ 

“‘ You will get better, Aniuta dear. You will be healthy and 
strong,’ Anastasia said quietly and confidently. And then 



When words change destinies 75 

Anastasia gradually unbuttoned her cardigan and exposed her 
breasts. 

“Aniuta stared at the exposed breasts in amazement, quite 
overwhelmed by the unexpected action. From the ends of 
the nipples tiny drops of breast milk emerged. 

‘“M ilk ! Mother’s milk! Auntie Anastasia, are you feeding a 
baby, too? Are you a mama?’ 

“This milk is to feed my little son.’ 

“Drops of breast milk kept coming. One of the drops flut- 
tered in a passing breeze. The breeze tore the drop from 
Anastasia’s breast. 

“Like a lightning-fast steel spring, Aniuta dashed after the 
little drop of breast milk. And she... Imagine, this thin, sickly 
little girl was nimble enough to catch the drop! She fell to the 
ground, but as she was falling she put out the palms of her 
hands and caught the little drop of breastmilk! She caught it 
just as it reached the ground. Getting up on her knees, she 
lifted her cupped hands to her face and opened them, exam- 
ining the tiny wet spot they were holding. Then she held out 
her hands to Anastasia. 

“‘Here. I caught it. Here it is. Your son’s milk is not lost.’ 

‘“You saved the little drop, Aniuta. Now it belongs to 

you.’ 

“‘Tome?!’ 

‘“Yes. Just to you.’ 

“Aniuta raised her cupped hands to her face and touched 
the drop with her lips. The frail little girl closed her eyes and 
held her hands pressed against her lips for a long time. Then 
she dropped her hands, looked at Anastasia, and with a voice 
full of gratitude, whispered: 

“‘Thank you.’ 

“‘Come close to me, Aniuta dear.’ 

‘Anastasia took hold of the little girl by her shoulders. She 
stroked her hair, then sat her on her lap. She gently inclined 



l6 


Book y The Space of Love 


the little one’s head to her breast, as she would an infant, and 
began singing quietly. 

‘Aniuta’s lips were now very close to one of Anastasia’s nip- 
ples. Almost in a half-sleep, Aniuta slowly drew her lips closer 
and closer to Anastasia’s breast, felt the moist nipple, gave a 
tiny shudder and began greedily sucking on Anastasia’s milk- 
filled breast. 

“Judging by the tape recording, she awakened about nine 
minutes later. She raised her head and jumped down from 
Anastasia’s lap. 

‘“I... Oh, dear, what have I done? I’ve drunkup your son’s milk.’ 

“‘Not to worry, Aniuta. There is enough left for him. You 
only drank the milk from one of my breasts, and there is still 
milk left in the other one. There is enough for him. My son 
can also eat pollen from the flowers if he wants to. And now 
you have been provided with all you need, so you will have no 
fear about being strong and beautiful and happy. Now go and 
draw your happiness from life, from each day it brings.’ 

“‘I shall be strong and healthy I shall think about how to 
greet Mamochka, so that she will not find it difficult to see 
me, but she will be extremely happy Only I shan’t be able 
to sing. I used to sing with Grandma. Then Grandma died. 
I keep asking Grandpa, but he doesn’t sing. Only when he 
drinks vodka will he sing me a song, and then I sing along with 
him. But it is hard for me to sing along with him, ’cause his 
voice croaks. I also tried to sing along with the radio, but our 
old receiver crackles so much I can’t get the words.’ 

“Aniuta dear, just try singing without words, try to imi- 
tate the birds when you hear them sing, or the water when it 
burbles, or the rustling of the leaves and the wind when it is 
strong and whistles through the branches. And there are a lot 
of sounds in the grass. You will hear many pure sounds around 
you if you are willing to listen. Try imitating them with your 
voice. They will be your best teachers... 



When words change destinies 77 

‘“I am going now, Aniuta, good-bye. It is time for me to 
g°-’ 

“Anastasia got up from the log. Aniuta remained sitting, 
listening to the world of sounds around her. Anastasia went 
up to the young guard who had shot at her. The guard was still 
very pale in the face, and his hands were shaking. His pistol 
was lying nearby on the ground. Anastasia told the guard: 

‘“Do not blame yourself, do not torture your soul. It was 
not a partner in what you did. You acted out of instinct. You 
were trained to protect whatever you were ordered to, with- 
out thinking about the situation. And your instinct took its 
course. It is not good for instinct to gain supremacy in Man. 
When instinct takes first place, then Man takes second place. 
The result is something less than a Man. Think about it — 
perhaps it would be better to return to yourself — to the Man 
that you are.’ 

“When the guard heard the calming tones of Anastasia’s 
voice his hands stopped shaking, and the paleness disap- 
peared from his face. And by the time she had finished speak- 
ing, his face was flush with a reddish colour, right to the tips 
of his ears. 

“Then Anastasia said good-bye to the elderly villagers and 

headed off in the direction of the taiga. For a long time we 
watched her as she drew further and further away Then all at 
once we heard an extraordinarily pure child’s voice singing. 

“Aniuta was still sitting on the log, singing a beautiful, old- 
time song — probably one she had learnt from her grand- 
mother. And how she sang! Her pure voice hit unusually high 
notes, filling the space around and enchanting the heart: 

Sprinkling raindrops glisten. 

Brother rocks his sister, 

Brother rocks his sister, 

Sings to her — she listens. 



7§ 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


‘Aniuta finished her song and began staring at our group, 
still standing there motionless. Then she got up, picked up a 
thin stick from the ground and said: 

‘“You chaps are bad. You’re so big, but you’re still bad.’ 

‘After saying this she started coming at us, armed with the 
little stick. The group of elderly villagers shuffled silently 
along behind her. And all of us to a man began withdrawing 
before them. We retreated right back to our ship which was 
docked by the riverbank, then scrambled up the gangplank, 
not without some pushing and shoving. We were on the point 
of pulling up the gangplank when the captain suddenly no- 
ticed the two helicopter pilots were also on board. 

“‘How come you’re here?’ he shouted from the bridge. 
‘Who’s looking after the chopper?’ 

“The pilots jumped down from the ship and ran over to 
their ’copter. 

“We left, abandoning the barrels of fuel and tents remain- 
ing on the shore. Nobody even thought of collecting them.” 



Chapter Ten 




When Alexander finished his story, I couldn’t help expressing 
my animosity toward him. 

“I see only too well what you’re up to. So you left the tents 
there. And the barrels too, eh? Too bad you got away with just 
some grey hair. She’s a holy person, Anastasia. It was so clear 
straight off — any normal person who’d seen you would have 
twigged what was going on, right off the bat. They would have 
known who was standing in front of them and what they were 
getting at. And yet she started pouring out her soul to you.” 

“She was aware of everything,” Alexander observed. “She 
was aware of why we came and what we wanted of her. She 
understood. But she was not talking with the dark side of 
our human selves. She ignored the dark side, communicating 
only with what was bright in each one’s heart. And that way 
she changed all of us. After all, I’m an academic. I’ve done a 
lot of work in psychology” 

“So, another academic, eh? So what good is all your study 
if your thoughts are so slow to catch up?” 

“Well, you see, life often happens to deal out its events to us 
faster and more accurately than we can handle them. Besides, 
Anastasia turned out to be... No, I’m afraid to put her into a 
category, any more than that other experience...” 

“What other experience?” 

“How can I put it? You know? Those old people from 
that remote taiga village — well, they’re still coming at us. 
Together with the frail little girl out in front of them, carry- 
ing the thin stick.” 



8o 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


“What? Where?” 

“They’re coming at us, they’re coming at all of us who were 
there and saw them. I thought that this was happening just 
with me — as soon as I close my eyes, I see them straight off, 
and sometimes they appear whenever I do anything which, 
in their opinion, is probably unwarranted. I thought this was 
happening just with me — but I’ve been talking with others 
in the group. Similar things have been happening with the 
ones who were there.” 

“But that’s all just in your minds, in your imagination.” 

“What’s the difference? We still have to retreat before 
their advance, even in our minds.” 

“What could be so frightening about helpless and unarmed 
oldsters? What are you afraid of?” 

“I really don’t know what there is to be afraid of. Maybe 
our own... Maybe we’ve overstepped some line of permissive- 
ness?” 

“What kind of line would that be? That sort of fantasis- 
ing can drive one crazy Maybe you just have to think things 
through as you’re doing them, before it’s too late.” 

“Maybe, think things through in time... We all have to 
think things through.” 

‘And where did you get the notion that after her conversa- 
tion with Anastasia the little girl’s destiny changed, and her 
mother’s too? And the destiny of the other villagers?” 

“I told you, I’m into psychology As an academic I can say 
this: Anastasia completely changed Aniuta’s whole internal 
programme. 

‘After being abandoned to the care of her grandparents, the 
little girl had been spending her time sitting sick and helpless 
in a corner of a dirty hut, waiting for her mother to come. 
They kept assuring her that her Mamochka would come and 
play with her and bring her presents. They did this, think- 
ing they were doing a good deed by lying. In the meantime 



Work out your own happiness 


81 


her mother in the city went on a drinking binge to relieve her 
feeling of hopelessness. The false assurances had condemned 
the girl to a state of fruitless expectancy 

“We too sometimes sit around waiting for a dispensation 
from above. Someone is supposed to come along and make 
us happy and change our destiny. Maybe that’s why we act so 
lethargically or don’t act at all. We don’t reflect on the fact 
that we already have more than enough, and that maybe we 
should be greeting the one coming with gifts of our own. 

‘Anastasia changed destiny and the future with her sim- 
plicity and sincerity. Just think, the simplest human words 
can change destiny. 

“I’ve listened to the recording of Anastasia’s conversa- 
tion with Aniuta many times. I have an idea if anyone else 
spoke that way to the girl, it would have had the same effect. 
It doesn’t actually take much to speak the way she did. The 
main thing is not to lie. One need only have the sincere desire 
to help. And helping doesn’t just mean sympathising. You 
have to be free of doctrines of karma, of predestination or, 
rather, rise above them. 

“Of course one can do a lot of talking about karma, the 
hopelessness of inevitable predestination and what it means 

for a sick little girl, but Anastasia rose above this sense or 
inevitability She simply didn’t pay any attention to it. And 
any other person could do the same. After all, everything was 
done with words, simple words we use every day. Only they 
need to be spoken at the right time and in the right place, 
and in the proper order. It is quite possible that the purity 
of thought Anastasia talks about causes these words to auto- 
matically fall into place in the right sequence, and that is why 
they are so powerful.” 

“Well, Alexander, those are all theories of yours, 
assumptions. You still have to look at real life and see whether 
any destinies will change on account of a bunch of words or 



82 


Book y The Space of Love 


not. Anyway, what could possibly change in life for that little 
girl? Unless some sort of miracle happened.” 

“A miracle has happened. It turns out that all the miracles 
we need are within ourselves.” 

“What kind of miracle happened?” 

“Little Aniuta’s whole mind and life got reprogrammed. 
She broke all the bonds of karma for herself and those around 
her.” 

“What do you mean, ‘broke’? How do you know this?” 

“I know it. Some time afterward I went back to the village. 
I decided to offer Aniuta my radio receiver, since hers was too 
crackly, and set up an antenna for it on the roof. So I’m walk- 
ing along to Aniuta’s house and I notice that the boards on 
the wooden sidewalk have been fixed. Before they were quite 
decayed, and now all the rotting boards had been replaced 
with new ones. Wow, I thought, what’s all this renovation go- 
ing on here? I saw Aniuta’s granddad sitting on the porch, 
washing his boots in a pail of water. 1 said hello to him, and 
explained why I’d come. 

‘“Well, fine!’ said the grandfather. ‘Come on in, if you like. 
Only you’ll have to take off those shoes of yours. You see, 
we’ve got new rules around the place.’ 

“I took off my shoes on the porch and accompanied the 
grandfather into the hut. Everything was simple inside, as 
you’d expect in a small village, only extremely clean and cozy 

‘“You see, our granddaughter’s got this new order set up for 
us,’ the grandfather told me. ‘She worked at it for a long time. 
She cleaned the floor, and then washed everything spic and 
span. She was at it from morning ‘til night for over a week, 
like a wound-up spring. She would have a rest and then start 
cleaning again. She persuaded me to paint the walls a fresh 
coat of white. 

“And now when I come into the hut with my boots on and 
leave tracks, right away she gets out a rag and starts cleaning 



Work out your own happiness 


83 


away the tracks. So, I guess, it’s better not to leave any tracks. 
We don’t have any slippers . 1 Instead of slippers she adapted 
some old galoshes. Here, you can put these on. Make your- 
self comfortable.’ 

“I sat down at the table. It was covered with an old, but 
dean tablecloth. The cloth was tom in one place, and the tear 
was patched, as neatly as a child’s hand could make it, with a 
piece of coloured cloth cut in the shape of a bunny-rabbit. In 
the middle of the table stood a cut-giass tumbler, out of which 
corners cut from notepad sheets neatly protruded — instead 
of serviettes. 

“ ! I see they’ve started improving your village, too,’ I said to 
the grandfather. And it looks like the authorities have been 
paying attention, seeing they fixed the wooden sidewalks.’ 

‘And he replied: 

“‘It’s got nothing to do with the authorities. They don’t 
pay any attention to us. It’s my granddaughter, Aniuta. She 
just can’t keep still.’ 

“‘What do you mean, Aniuta? She’s still a wee one, much 
too little to repair sidewalks. Those are heavy boards there.’ 

‘“Heavy boards. Yeah. You see, one day I was about to 
set out hunting, and I asked a neighbour if she would look in 
on Aniuta. And Aniuta says to me, “Go on, Grandpa, go on 
about your business. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything 
myself. Just let me take a saw to that board that’s standing 
against the wall in the barn.” 

‘“I was surprised, but I thought: why not let the child play, 
if that’s the way she likes to play. So I put the board on the 
wood-block, handed her a couple of saws and set off to do 
some hunting. Later my neighbour told me what happened 
while I was gone. 

1 slippers — It is customary for Russian hosts to offer their guests slippers to 
wear during their visit. 



8 4 


Book y I he Space of Love 


“Aniuta pulled out the old rotten pieces of board from the 
sidewalk. She measured the hole with a string and began sawing 
the board I had given her according to the measurement. The 
neighbour says she spent half the day sawing the board, but she 
managed to do it somehow. Then she lugged the new board right 
up to the sidewalk and put it in the place of the rotten one.’ 

‘“She’s so thin anci frail, how on earth could she have lugged 
such a heavy board?’ I asked. 

‘“She found herself a helper. Back a couple of months ago 
she made friends with an orphaned dog, a Siberian laika . 2 An 
old lady died who lived at the other end of our village, leaving 
a large dog. Back at the funeral Aniuta kept stroking him. 
Then she started talcing him something to eat. At first the lai- 
ka wouldn’t leave his own yard, even though there was nobody 
left living in the hut. The old lady had been living alone. 

“Aniuta fed the dog for several days. He started following 
the girl around, and now he never leaves her side. Now this old 
dog helps carry out whatever our granddaughter fancies. So 
he helped her lug the board over. Aniuta tied a string around 
one end and started in dragging it herself, when the huge dog 
grasped hold of the other end with his teeth, and between the 
two of them they managed to drag it to the sidewalk. 

‘“Then Aniuta asked a neighbour lady for some nails, and 
borrowed my hammer. And here she was trying to nail the 
board into place with the hammer. But nothing happened. 
The neighbour saw Aniuta sitting on the sidewalk, trying 
to hammer in the nail. She hit her hand in the process and 
blood started oozing out. The dog was sitting right beside 
her, watching and whimpering. 


' laika — the name given to a number of Arctic breeds of dog, akin to the 
Canadian husky, trained for pulling sledges and hunting in the North. The 
word has the same root as the Russian for to bark and is commonly used in 
Russian as a personal name for a dog. 



Work out your own happiness 


8 5 


“‘The neighbour came over, took the hammer and nailed 
the board in place. The next evening she saw Aniuta and the 
dog dragging another board over. Which meant there was 
another hole in the sidewalk to patch up. 

“‘The neighbour asked Aniuta if she were going to patch 
up all the holes this way — couldn’t she think up some other 
little girl’s tiling to do? And my granddaughter replied: 

‘““It’s very important, Auntie, for all the sidewalks outside 
the houses to be new and free from holes. You see, otherwise 
someone might decide to come visiting, walking along the 
boards, and there’s holes in them, and that would spoil the 
visitor’s good mood. And my Mamochka, when she comes, 
might get upset if she saw such a shoddy sidewalk.” 

“‘So the neighbour hammered down the second board for 
her. And then she raised a hue and cry throughout the village, 
shouting out to everyone: “Get busy fixing the sidewalks in 
front of your houses. I’m not going to let a child do drudgery 
on account of your disorderliness! She’s working her hands 
to the bone!” 

‘“So, you can see, everyone’s fixed up the sidewalk in front 
of their houses. So they wouldn’t have to hear the neighbour 

lady rail at them any more.’ 

“And where is your granddaughter now?’ I asked the old 
fellow. 

“‘She’s lugged a tin of paint over to the house at the far end. 
She’ll probably spend the night there, with the old Losin cou- 
ple. Yeah... She may spend the night there.’ 

“‘What kind of paint, and what’s it for?’ 

“‘Just ordinary oil-based paint, bright orange. She got it 
from the steamship in exchange for fish. That’s her latest 
fancy.’ 

“And what kind of fancy might that be?’ 

“‘She’s decided that all the huts need freshening up. 
Need to look more cheerful. So when the ship comes — 



86 


Book y The Space of Love 


that’s the ship that collects fish that’s been caught around 
here, she goes and offers 'em a whole catch of fish in ex- 
change for paint. And then she lugs the tin of paint to one 
of the huts. She asks them to paint the nalichniks? And the 
old people start painting. Soon it’ll be my turn. Whaddya 
know! I’ll do the painting. Why not? Maybe it’ll be better 
if the painting gets done, if the huts are going to look more 
cheerful on the outside.’ 

“And where does she get the fish from?’ 

“‘She catches them herself Every morning she brings 
home two or three connies , 4 sometimes more. If only once 
she’d come home empty-handed, but no, the fish just seem 
to land on her hooks all by themselves. And here I’m lying in 
bed with my back problems, and she says to me: get up. And 
keeps at me: “Get up, Grandpa! You’ve gotta salt the fish, so 
it doesn’t go bad.” Every morning it’s the same,’ the old fellow 
muttered, but with no trace of annoyance in his voice. 

“So I asked him howAniuta managed to cope with the fish- 
ing tackle — all by herself? 

“‘See, I told you,’ he replied. Aniuta’s got a helper — this 
Siberian laika. Lie may be old, but he’s smart, and obedi- 
ent. He helps her carry out all her fancies. Aniuta takes my 
throw-line with its five hooks, neatly arranges the bait on the 
hooks and goes down to her treasured spot on the riverbank 
every evening with her laika. She’ll tie one end of the line to 
a post on the shore, then attaches the other end to a stick. 
The dog then takes the stick in his mouth and swims out into 
the river. He keeps on swimming as long as Aniuta, standing 


'nal/chn/k — an ornately decorated board (with carved symbols to repel evil 
spirits) covering the cracks between the window-frame and the wall, to keep 
out the elements; nalichniks are a common feature of Russian rural houses. 

4 connies (Russian belorybitsa; Latin: Stenodus leucichthys) — a freshwater white 
fish, otherwise known as inconnii or sheefisb. 



Work out your own happiness 


87 


on the shore, keeps encouraging him: “Swim, Druzhok, swim, 
Druzhok!” 5 The dog keeps pulling the line until Aniuta chang- 
es the tone of her voice as she calls: “Come here, Druzhok, 
come here, Druzhok!” Then the dog releases the stick from 
his jaws and swims back to shore... 

“‘Well, that’s enough for now. Let’s get some sleep.’ 

“With that the old fellow climbed onto the stove. 0 And 
I lay down on the wooden sofa. When I woke up at dawn, 
I went outside and saw Aniuta down by the river tugging on 
the iron ring to which the fishing line was attached. A huge 
Siberian laika was helping her. The laika had grasped hold of 
the ring with his teeth and braced himself with his legs as he 
backed up. Together they were dragging the line with quite 
a decent catch on the end of it. Aniuta was wearing rubber 
boots three sizes too big over her bare feet. 

“Once the catch was almost at the shore, she took hold of 
a scoop net and ran down to collect the fish. The laika was 
standing on his hind legs, holding the ring in his teeth. Aniuta 
went into the water deeper than her boots allowed, and the 
water started pouring over the tops of her boots. 

“She drew the catch onto the riverbank and unhooked 
three splendid fish, which she put into a bag. Then she and 
the laika together took hold of the rope attached to a piece of 
plywood carrying the bag, and dragged it home. 

“The water was sloshing around in Aniuta’s boots, interfer- 
ing with her walking. She stopped and took off her boots — 
first one, then the other — and stood barefoot on the cold 
ground while she emptied out the water. Then she put on her 
wet boots again and continued on her way. 


'Druzhok (lit. ‘Little Friend’) — a popular Russian name for a dog. 

6 stove (Russian: pech) — The vast majority of Russian huts Uzby) in rural ar- 
eas have a furnace-size brick stove in the centre with a flat top where the 
family sleeps to stay warm during cold nights. 



Book 3: The Space of Love 


“As the two of them together lugged their morning catch 
up to the porch, I got a good look at Aniuta’s face and was 
amazed. 

“Her cheeks were a rosy red, and her little eyes were spar- 
kling with determination. These, together with the hint of 
a smile on her face, made her virtually unrecognisable by 
comparison with the sickly, sallow-skinned little girl I had 
met earlier. Aniuta set about rousing her grandfather. With 
a rather loud wheeze he climbed down from the stove and 
put on a jacket. Then he took a knife and salt and proceed to 
cut up the fish. In the meantime Aniuta served me tea, and 
I asked her why she got up so early every morning to bring 
home the fish. 

“‘Those fellows on the steamship, on the river, they come 
and collect our fish,’ she said. ‘They give me money. And I 
asked them to bring me paint for the houses in our village. 
They brought me the paint in exchange for the fish. Along 
with some lovely material for a dress. For that I gave them all 
the fish I had caught that week.’ And when she said that, she 
went and fetched a huge piece of magnificent silk fabric. 

“‘Well, Ania,’ I observed, ‘I see there’s enough here for 
more than one dress. How come so much?’ 

“‘This isn’t for me. I’ve got it ready as a present for my 
Mamochka, when my Mamochka comes to see me. And I’m 
also going to give her a beautiful shawl and a long beaded 
necklace.’ 

“Then Aniuta opened an old worn suitcase and pulled out 
a pair of imported women’s pantihose, a pearl necklace and a 
magnificent brightly-coloured shawl. 

“‘I don’t want Mamochka to be upset that she can’t give me 
any presents. I can buy everything for her now myself. I don’t 
want her to think she’s been wasting her life.’ 

“I watched as she joyfully showed me the gifts she had pre- 
pared for her mother — she was so happy admiring them — and 



Work out your own happiness 


89 


I realised what had happened: here Aniuta had transformed 
herself from an utterly helpless, pitiful little girl, waiting for 
somebody else to help her, into an active, self-confident indi- 
vidual. And happy that she has known such great success, or 
maybe her happiness stems from an entirely different source... 

“Now I believe that each one’s happiness lies within them- 
selves, within each one of us. It is there at a particular level of 
awareness. The only question is: how do we reach that level?! 
Anastasia helped little Aniuta reach it. Will she be able to 
help everyone else do the same? Or maybe we ourselves need 
to learn in some way how to figure things out ourselves.” 

Alexander fell silent, and we each became absorbed in our 
own thoughts. 

I wrapped myself in a short thick coat and laid my head 
against a log. I began looking up at the bright northern stars, 
and it seemed they were quite low overhead and were also be- 
ing warmed by the flames of our fire. I tried to go to sleep. 

After about three hours’ sleep, at dawn Alexander and I 
headed for the motorboat. But before casting off, Alexander 
suddenly announced: 

“I’ve been thinking. Now I’m certain. It’s not worth your 
while going into the taiga. You won’t find Anastasia there 
now; Nobody can find her, including you.” 

“Why not?” 

‘Anastasia’s gone. She’s gone deep into the taiga. She 
couldn’t help leaving. If you try to go after her, you might get 
killed. You’re not suited to the taiga. Besides, you’ve got to 
write some more. To fulfil your promise to her.” 

“In order to write more, I’ve got to hear her answers to the 
many questions from my readers. Questions about children, 
about different religions...” 

“Nobody’ll find her now.” 

“ Why do you keep parroting: ‘She can’t be found! She can’t 
be found!’ I know where her glade is, I’ll find her.” 



9 ° 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


“I tell you, you won’t. Anastasia can’t help but realise that 
there are people out to hunt her down.” 

“What do you mean, they’re out to hunt her down? Is 
somebody bribing the local hunters? Just like they pay you 
and Yegorych?” 

“Me and Yegorych? No way! We try to persuade people 
not to interfere with her, not to alarm her. And if that doesn’t 
work, we take them and let them off on the opposite shore. 
The local hunters can’t be bribed; they’ve got laws and val- 
ues of their own. They knew about Anastasia long before you 
came along. They’ve always treated her with great respect. 
They’ve been careful even when speaking about her amongst 
themselves. They don’t like it when strangers show up in the 
taiga, and they’re pretty good shots.” 

“Then who could possibly hunt her down?” 

“I think: whoever has led us into the condition we find our- 
selves in at this moment. And is still leading us.” 

“Can you be more specific?” 

“Each one of us has to work that out more specifically on 
their own.” 

“But still, who do you have in mind? Someone like Boris 

Moiseevich?” 

“He’s just a tool. There’s something we can’t see that’s play- 
ing with us. And Boris Moiseevich is starting to realise that 
now And maybe the one who hired him has realised it, too.” 



Chapter Eleven 



“A month ago Boris Moiseevich returned to these parts,” 
Alexander told me. “This time he had no assistants or guards 
with him. He looked me up. He was quiet and pensive. He 
and I talked for a whole day. It wasn’t so much a conversation 
as a confession on his part — it wasn’t me he was confessing 
to, of course, but to himself. He gave me a copy of his report 
on his contact with Anastasia. I copied out some excerpts for 
you. Would you like me to read them?” 

“Who commissioned the report?” 

“I don’t know. Even Boris Moiseevich doesn’t know. Tie 
had a meeting with whoever it was in an opulent salon with 
a fireplace. Elis sponsor identified himself as a representa- 
tive of the ‘International Academy’. But so many acade- 
mies have sprouted up recently, it’s hard to tell which of 
them are the really serious ones. Now people have begun 
judging the seriousness of an organisation by the amount of 
funding it gets. 

“The sponsor hadn’t scrimped on the financing. Ele’d paid 
for the whole trip right off in cash, and promised not only 
a substantial bonus but also the future involvement of the 
whole unit Boris Moiseevich headed in a serious scientific 
project connected with Anastasia. 

“When Boris Moiseevich met with him upon his return to 
Moscow and presented his report, the sponsor took only a 
cursory look at it. No doubt he had already been informed of 
its contents. He threw the report into the fireplace and said 
to Boris Moiseevich: 



92 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


“‘You were supposed to establish contact with “Object 
X”, as you yourself referred to Anastasia. In carrying out 
the project you employed not only your own scientific 
methods and techniques of persuasion, but also violence. 
The violence rvas your own initiative. 

‘“We have decided to double your fee for organising the 
expedition, and at the same time cancel our agreements with 
you for any future activity. Here, take your money,’ he said, 
pointing to a briefcase standing beside his chair, ‘and forget 
about the whole thing.’ 

“Boris Moiseevich tried to explain that the violence had 
erupted spontaneously, and that he himself found the whole 
episode quite distasteful, and he realised what harm his group’s 
inexpertness had inflicted on future contacts with Anastasia, 
and for that reason he would not take any fee at all. 

‘At that point the man sitting by the fireplace got up from 
his chair and in a tone that brooked no contradiction, articu- 
lated: 

“‘You will take it. And you’ll leave. You didn’t care about 
the cause, only the money. So here, take it. We don’t need 
you anymore.’ 

“Boris Moiseevich took the briefcase with the money and 

left the spacious office salon. He tried to share the money in 
equal amounts among the members of the expedition, but not 
all of them accepted it. It only seemed to emphasise the tre- 
mendous feeling of unpleasantness at what had been wrought 
by the participants.” 

“How come you only copied out excerpts of the report for 
me?” I asked Alexander. 

“Judging by your book, you don’t really fancy reading docu- 
ments filled with terms you don’t understand. I tried to copy 
out only the important points, and places where there wasn’t 
too much specialised terminology” 

“So, what do they say about Anastasia?” 



Who are we? 


93 


Alexander pulled some printed pages out of his pocket and 
began reading them to me: 

Object X cannot be studied by traditional scientific re- 
search methods known to us today: 

The evaluation criteria currently accepted in scientific 
circles inevitably posit particular frameworks which au- 
tomatically exclude properties hitherto unknown and the 
possibility of encountering phenomena arising out of and 
connected with isolated situations and the changing psy- 
chological state of Object X. 

As an information source in various areas of scientific 
research, the ‘object’ may prove to have no equal among 
the sources currently known to science. 

The object is most likely not an information carrier in 
itself. It is not interested in simply receiving and analys- 
ing information. However, should there arise a particular 
goal — and, consequently, a desire — which it deems sig- 
nificant, information accrues to it in a form selected by 
an unknown entity and in the required amount, for which 
Object X may instantly find a practical application. 

Our group was able to offer only a few hypotheses. But 
we did confirm experimentally a number of Object X’s say- 
ings regarding plants. We were able to establish the exist- 
ence of the ray. The scientific terms torsion field and radio- 
wave emissions are not really suitable here. If they are used 
at all, it is only because there are no other more suitable 
terms. 

The most incredible and doubtful hypothesis, in our view, 
was the possibility of infusing the text of the book 1 with 
hidden combinations and signs — according to Object X’s 
terminology — of “the depths of eternity and the infinity 


the book i.e., Anastasia, Book i of the Ringing Cedars Series. 



94 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


of the Cosmos”. The object affirmed that these signs may 
have a beneficial effect on people. 

We were recommending conducting a series of experi- 
ments, comparing the parameters of the physiological 
changes in human beings before and after the reading of 
the book, with the help of measuring devices used in medi- 
cal practice. This does not make much sense any more. 

Already we are compelled to confirm that the fact of their 
existence is indisputable. These changes are not effected 
through the material, physiological organs of the body, but 
at some intangible, non-material level of society as a whole. 

One has the impression that within the milieu of the 
community of people living on the Earth a reaction is be- 
ginning to take place which we are not in a position to ar- 
rest — or, for that matter, even to control. 

The basic evidence of such a reaction is the psychic re- 
sponse observed in those who have come in contact with 
the book. Questionnaires, along with examination and 
analysis of readers’ correspondence attest to the fact that 
a majority of readers have experienced a creative urge ex- 
pressed in the form of poetic compositions, sketches and 
drawings, along with the writing and performing of songs. 
Many readers have felt the impulse to make contact with 
and cultivate plants, or to change their profession. In cer- 
tain cases the reading of the book is followed by a signifi- 
cant improvement in one’s sense of well-being and the dis- 
appearance of symptoms of disease. 

We conducted an experiment on thirty people having 
various ailments. In a psychotherapy/sleep-therapy unit 
they were asked to read the text of the book. In the case of 
27 of them an emotional concentration was observed, along 
with lack of sleep and an increased haemoglobin count in the 
blood. If we assume that the reaction on the part of these 
readers is due to the vividness or the image of literary art, 



Who are we ? 


95 


one can confirm that in terms of psychological effect this 
particular image far surpasses, by several degrees, all those 
hitherto known, including classical and biblical images. 

The indisputability of such a conclusion is confirmed by 
the percentage of readers who have expressed their rela- 
tionship to the book in poetic and other creative forms — 
according to our statistical survey, this has happened with 
as many as one in every nineteen readers. 

Moreover, it should be noted that the author’s exposi- 
tory style is primitive to the extreme. It does not follow 
any established norm of the literary arts, and the text is re- 
plete with grammatical errors. But a computer analysis of 
the book’s readability shows that it has a readability rating 
of 80% or higher! 

In our direct contact with Object X we noticed a phe- 
nomenon encountered nowhere else before and with no 
counterpart in any data observed or recorded by ufologists. 

We observed a spheroid energy mass, resembling large 
ball lightning. Its energy potential far surpasses existing sci- 
entific concepts of the power of natural energies. Its ability 
to change the Earth’s gravitational field in a specific loca- 
tion affords it the possibility of instantaneously transform- 
ing anything not rooted in the ground into cosmic dust. 

During the period of our contact, the Earth’s gravitation 
was changed slightly but with any increase in its power out- 
put we and all material objects might have simply found our- 
selves somewhere out in space. By contrast, the gravitational 
field around Object X was not changed, which attests to the 
possibility of selective influence. 

It was evident that the change in the Earth’s gravita- 
tional attraction was preceded by a reduction in the blue 
spectrum of natural light. 

One could hypothesise that the so-called gravitational 
attraction of the Earth is not dependent on the Earth itself 



96 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


but on the pressure of light emanating from certain celes- 
tial objects, energies, or the Earth’s atmosphere as created 
by an intelligent being. 

Despite its ability to acquire large quantities of infor- 
mation, Object X does not attempt to subject it to analy- 
sis. It processes the information it receives on the level of 
feelings and intuition, from which arises an impression of 
naivety. The interrelationships between Object X and the 
energy mass are simple and commonplace, established on 
the basis of feelings, with no trace of servility or idolisa- 
tion. They are characterised by full freedom of action in a 
context of mutual respect. 

The luminous energy mass we observed possesses in- 
telligence and, even more incredibly, feelings, something 
which ufologists have not noted in connection with a sin- 
gle UFO. This is evidenced by the fact that during contact 
with Object X the rays of the energy mass stroked its feet 
and hair, and that the mass itself, through its movements, 
reacted to Object X’s emotional state. 

Along with the capability of exerting a physiological ef- 
fect on matter, the phenomenon perceived by us also has 
the capacity to produce a psychological effect. 

It may be hypothesised that Object X may represent an 
earthly human being who is periodically contacted by rep- 
resentatives of an extra-terrestrial civilisation, or that it is 
in communication with some kind of natural phenomenon 
which does not lend itself to scientific investigation. 

It may be further hypothesised that Object X itself 
represents an extra-terrestrial civilisation. However, the 
object’s own declaration: “I am Man, I am a woman” con- 
tradicts this hypothesis. Such a declaration places us in an 
unresolvable dilemma, as the question inevitably arises: 
“Who then are we?” Or to put it another way: “Has man- 
kind been treading a path of progress or regression?” 



Chapter Twelve 



“Okay, that’s enough,” I interrupted Alexander. “For me, 
Anastasia is just a recluse. Maybe she’s got some unusual abili- 
ties, but I would say she’s human, she’s Man. Let’s hope so, 
anyway. If I think about everything too much, I could go nuts. 
So start up that old rattletrap motor of yours and let’s go.” 

It took us about four hours to get to the remote settle- 
ment. After I had set foot on the familiar stretch of shore- 
line, Alexander also got out of the boat and once again tried 
to persuade me: 

“Anastasia’s gone, Vladimir. Really give it some thought — 
you can still change your mind about trying to reach her glade. 
You won’t make it.” 

“I’m going.” I was hoisting my backpack to sling it over my 
shoulder when I suddenly noticed Alexander unsheathing a 
large hunting knife. 

I threw the backpack down and rifled about on the ground 
for something I could defend myself with. But Alexander, 
having bared his right arm to the elbow, suddenly slashed his 
own arm with the knife and covered the gushing blood with 
a white linen scarf he had. Then he asked me to fetch the 
first-aid kit from the motorboat and bind his wounded arm. 
I did this, still in a state of bewilderment. He handed me the 
bloodsoaked scarf, saying: 

“Tie this around your head.” 

“What for?” 

‘At least that way the hunters won’t touch you. They will 
not fire at a wounded man.” 



98 


Book 3: The Space of Love 


“You think those hunters of yours are dumb or something? 
They only have to come close and they’ll see right off it’s a 
prop.” 

“They won’t come close. Why take the chance? They’ve 
all got their own territories and pathways. If someone needs 
to go into the taiga for a good reason, he’ll talk to the hunt- 
ers first, tell them about himself and what he intends to do, 
and co-ordinate his route with them. If they think he has a 
good reason, they’ll help him, give him advice and may even 
provide an escort. But they know nothing about you. They 
may shoot first and ask questions later, but they won’t fire at 
a wounded man.” 

I took the bloodsoaked scarf and tied it around my head. 

“I guess I’m supposed to say thank you, but somehow I 
don’t feel like thanking you.” 

“No need to. I didn’t do it for thanks. I just wanted to do 
at least something for you. When you get back, light a fire 
on the riverbank. I’ll be passing close by from time to time, 
and if I see the smoke I’ll come pick you up — if, that is, you 
manage to get back.” 

As I was walking along, I noticed a couple of dogs about a hun- 
dred metres away Probably from the settlement, I thought. 
I wished they would come closer, as dogs had a quieting ef- 
fect on me. I even tried to attract their attention, but they 
didn’t approach, only kept a parallel course to mine. And so 
we went deeper into the taiga. 

It was pointless for Alexander to try and scare me, I 
thought. The taiga didn’t seem hostile to me at all. Maybe it 
was because I knew at the back of my mind that here amidst 
the trees and moss-covered logs lived Anastasia, and even if 
she was strange, she was still a kind person. I held to the no- 
tion that here in the taiga with all its tangled undergrowth, 
its sounds and air so unfamiliar to city-dwellers, lived my very 



Man-made mutants 


99 


own son. This thought made the taiga feel just a bit more like 
home to me. 

The twenty-five kilometres from the riverbank to the 
glade presented much more of a challenge than walking along 
an ordinary road, since there were fallen trees to climb over 
and thickets to go around. The time I had been walking with 
Anastasia I hadn’t noticed all these barriers, immersed as we 
were in conversation. The main thing now was not to lose my 
sense of direction on account of them, and I began check- 
ing my compass more often, all the while th